


And They Were Inmates

by Random_Inked_Thoughts



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Dan thinks he's tough but actually he's SOFT, Jealous Dan Howell, M/M, Phil Lester Is A Sweetheart, Phil is mentally scarred, Please save Phil, Prison, Protective Dan, Punk Dan, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Inked_Thoughts/pseuds/Random_Inked_Thoughts
Summary: From the moment the judge’s gavel came down and the cry of “guilty” echoed through the courtroom, Phil knew he was screwed. He could hear his mother weeping off to the side, weeping that there was no way for this to be possible, please, her son didn’t have it in him. His eyes widened. He didn’t have it in him, they had to understand that! He had been framed!Enter Daniel Howell, the mysterious, brooding pyromaniac that practically runs the containment center. Faster than Phil can blink, he is thrust into the vicious cycle of prison life, doing his best to simply keep his head down and avoid anyone and everyone.However, when Phil (literally) bumps into Daniel, spilling his food tray all over his front, well… let’s just say Phil is very lucky that Daniel has taken a liking to him.





	1. Welcome to Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! I'm so glad you all took an interest in my story. For those wondering (who care enough to read this) yes I have a direction I want to go in with this story, so hopefully you'll hop along for the ride! :)
> 
> Side note: Sorry, I could have alternatively named the first chapter "PLOT: THE CHAPTER" cause honestly that's all this is. :/

It was so loud here. That was the very first thing he noticed. 

 

Not the good kind of loud either, like a friend’s uncontrollable laugh, or music blasting in your ears as you worked. It was a sharp, angry kind of loud that made Phil want to curl up into a little ball under his duvet and pretend it didn’t exist.

 

Phil trudged down the halls, his head bowed slightly, the softest of sighs escaping his lips. Everything felt numb, all of it a blur from the accusations to the questioning to the court case to the sound of the judge’s gavel to his own footsteps echoing around the barren hallway, flanked by trained officers.  _ How did I even end up here?  _ All around him, through the walls of the hallway, he could hear other inmates whooping and screaming, assumingly adorned with the same orange cloth that was now the only barrier between his skin and the harsh elements of this unknown world. 

 

“Keep moving, inmate,” One of the guards escorting his sneered, shoving at Phil’s shoulder with something hard and wooden. He stumbled over himself slightly before catching his balance again, closing his eyes briefly as he felt tears start to prick at the corner of his eyes.  _ I won’t give them the satisfaction.  _

 

“You’re in here,” The other guard directed, stepping off slightly to the side and nodding to the barred door that was cracked open slightly. Phil searched her face hopefully for any kind of compassion, but found none. “You’ll be sharing a living space with a man named Tyler. I expect that won’t be a problem. You aren’t allowed to enter any other rooms than this one, or we will put into effect any consequences that seem fit. Try your best not to get beat up on the first day, it’s a hassle.” Nodding mutely in response, Phil stepped inside and resigned himself to his fate. 

 

The sight that greeted him was not one that he expected. A man looking to be in his mid twenties sat in the middle of the room, cross legged, eyes closed, the whole shebang, appearing to be meditating. He had headphones in his ears, as well as dyed mint green and purple hair, and to top it all off, a silver eyebrow piercing. Phil couldn’t gauge his height very well from his position on the floor, but this man was definitely more muscular than him. He was also wearing, upon closer inspection, winged eyeliner. 

 

There were two beds, stacked on top of one another, the blankets on the bottom one already messed up, lived in. Phil shuddered at the thought of having to take the top bunk. That combined with his clumsiness was a recipe for disaster. And what if he needed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Phil could feel his chest tighten, and he wished again for his own bedroom.  _ They’ll figure it out soon, they have to know I wasn’t really the killer… This is just a precaution. Yeah, a precaution.  _ Phil looked again around the room as the reality of the situation slowly wore away at the edges of his positivity.

 

_ Oh god.  _

 

A small, box shaped toilet sat out in the open, nothing more than a hole in a cube. Phil thought he might be physically sick. The rest of the cell was bare. “I’m going to die here,” he whispered out, his voice strangled. 

 

“Well hello to you too, honey. This is off to a good start already.” The man, Tyler rolled his eyes, though there was no venom behind his words, only caution. “Is the talking to yourself thing constant, or…” He trailed off. “Cause I’m not sure I can live with that.”

 

Phil jerked out of his headspace to see the man smirking at him, hands on his hips. “S-sorry,” He sputtered out. “I swear I don’t do that a-all of the time, I promise!” Reflexively, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

 

The man just gave him a look.    
  
“I’m telling the truth, I swear!” Phil couldn’t help the undignified squeak that came at the end of his sentence, and his cheeks colored instantly. The same hand that fixed his glasses rose up again, this time pushing back his quiff again. His other hand tightened on the strap of his assigned orange backpack. 

 

_ No electronics, no clothing, nothing that could possibly connect you to the outside world or help you in any way to escape. No more than fits in the backpack.  _ The words danced around his head, almost teasing him, and Phil wished he had brought more, but he had only thought as far as to grab Lion, some crappy staged family picture they had taken around Christmas and a couple of his books.  _ Toiletries will be distributed to your room once you reach the prison, Mr Lester, so don’t try to bring anything special. You know, you should be grateful, nowhere else would even allow anything like this.  _   
  
“So what are you in for then?” Tyler asked him casually, examining his fingernails, seemingly unaware that Phil was stuck forty eight hours in the past. 

 

“This is all a big mistake, I was framed,” Phil tried to explain hurriedly. “Please, you have to believe me-”   
  


He was interrupted by a sound that sounded almost like wheezing. It took him a moment to realize that Tyler was laughing, so hard apparently that he was doubled over. “Sure, mate, and I was framed too. I didn’t help steal secrets from the US military, I swear!” 

 

Phil pouted. 

 

“What are you in for, seriously?” Tyler asked him. When Phil did not respond, he just rolled his eyes. “Fine. What were you ‘framed for,’ you perfect sweet thing?” The sarcasm was so thick Phil could have reached out and touched it. 

 

Phil cast his eyes to the ground, shame coursing through him, as well as unexplainable guilt. “Murder,” He whispered. 

 

“Oh, that’s not that bad at all!” Tyler was cheerful now, if a little confused. “How’d you land yourself in this particular prison? This place is usually reserved for the people who  _ really  _ messed up.” 

 

Phil shook his head as he recounted the charges, almost as if that would make them dissipate, make the memories ingrained in his head disappear. “The murder of… of a wife, her husband, and their t-three children. Apparently, they’re just the latest in a l-long series of,” Phil paused. “Casualties.”

 

“Serial killer, eh?” Tyler let out a small chuckle, slowly pulling out his headphones and raising himself to his full height. Then he took a moment to really look Phil over, concern flooding his features suddenly as he re-assessed the situation. He let out a small laugh, but there was no humor in the situation. “I can’t believe it, you weren’t just yanking my leg. Anyone with eyes would see you didn’t do it. You’re not going to last three seconds in here, kid.”  _ Oh my gosh, he’s got to be a foot smaller than me, at least.  _ A small rush of relief and calm went through Phil at that thought as he shook the hand the man offered to him. 

 

“Hi, I’m Tyler.” 

 

“Phil.” His voice was barely a whisper. 

 

“Well then  _ Phil _ ,” Tyler smirked once more as he tried out Phil’s name on his tongue, “I suppose we only have a short hour together before dinnertime, and if you want to survive, you should heed the next general advice very carefully.” Tyler moved to sit on the bottom bunk, patting next to him for Phil to sit as well. “Oh, and you should just leave your bag anywhere, just not within sight of the door,” He advised. 

 

Phil left his stuff out of sight of the door and sat down. 

 

“This prison complex is, for lack of a better word- complex,” Tyler explained. Though still terrified, Phil listened closely. He had a feeling he would need this info sooner than he liked. 

 

“Inmates are allowed more freedom here, mostly since they will never be released. Apparently, it’s supposed to be some great new experiment to make us more compliant. Results have yet to return, but it seems to be working pretty well, for now.” Tyler paused. “Do you know why you’re here of all places and prisons?” 

 

Phil shook his head. 

 

“Okay then. For some reason, it made sense for the world to round up all of its most dangerous criminals and banish us here, to this hellhole, off the radar. We’re allowed to keep a small handful of our possessions, as you already knew, as well as enjoy the small perks of experimentation on human nature like unlimited cafeteria food and lights out being practically never. The only real downside to this place is that you’re only allowed one visit a month, and the guards kinda suck.” 

 

Phil nodded as he thought back to his previous encounter with the guards, his shoulder still aching a little. 

 

“Oh, and of course, the social hierarchy.” Tyler smirked once more. Phil decided that he liked it less and less each time he did it. “I’m decently high up there,” he stated modestly, “Though there are two main ‘gangs’ that you need to worry about in here. Don’t call them that though, gangs aren’t technically allowed. One of them belongs to Felix, I’ll point him out to you at dinner. They’re the smaller of the two gangs, but honestly, they’re more likely to beat you up no matter what. It’s only a matter of time”

 

Phil winced. “Is there any way for me to avoid that?” He whispered. 

 

“It happens to everyone eventually. The best you can do is prolong it,” Tyler said somberly. Then, he reconsidered. “Well, Felix and his gang only listen to the few people higher up on the food chain than they are.” Tyler sighed, pausing for a dramatic reveal. “Howell and his group.”    
  
Phil was silent, the words obviously not having the desired effect on him. 

 

“Daniel Howell is by far the most dangerous criminal in here. Do you remember hearing about the mass burnings going on in Manchester, back around 2012?” Tyler asked him. 

 

Phil nodded, confused. 

 

“That was him. Just barely an adult, and he took three weeks to rocket to the top of London’s most wanted. Unfortunately for him, he was stupid one time too many, and ended up in here several years back. He became top dog around here within about a year, to the best of my knowledge. Ask anyone, they all have their Howell stories.” Tyler smiled then, suddenly. “But you don’t have to worry about any of those people today, because you’ll be sitting with me, and avoiding them like the plague!” 

 

Phil sat there for a moment, digesting. 

 

Almost as if to back up Tyler’s words, a large bell from out in the hall rung. 

 

Tyler’s face split into a huge grin. “Dinner time.” He jerked his head, inclining Phil to follow him as he stood up. “Come on, I’ll point out everyone you need to worry about.”

 

\---

 

Phil could almost feel his heart beating out of his chest as he stood beside Tyler in the line.  _ It’s fine, it’s fine, everything’s fine… _

 

He grabbed the first things he could see, though most of the food looked above normal prison grade quality, and turned to look for Tyler. When his eyes didn’t immediately settle on him, Phil began to panic slightly, glancing from inmate to inmate almost feverishly.  _ You can’t depend on him in here, you can’t depend on anyone!  _ His brain was screaming at him, his heartbeat so loud he could hear it in his ears. 

 

“Phil? Hello, Earth to Phil!” And then Tyler was there again, and Phil’s heartbeat was returning, slowly but surely, to its original, only marginally elevated rate. “Come on, weirdo,” Tyler chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder and shaking his head, missing how Phil flinched as he did so. 

 

Phil followed him diligently, until he stopped at a table in the corner, slightly secluded, yet with a nearly perfect view over the rest of the room. For some reason, only one other inmate sat at the table, his head ducked down as he quickly shovelled food into his mouth. He looked up for only a second when they sat down, but it was still enough time for Phil to catch sight of the huge black eye he was nursing. His heart stopped in his chest. 

 

Tyler sat at the other end, avoiding him, and Phil moving uncertainly to place his tray across from Tyler’s. He looked hesitantly down at his food, poking at it a little bit, and then Tyler was speaking to him. 

 

“Well go on then,” Tyler chuckled slightly, beginning to dig into the food on his own tray. “One of the few perks here is the cafeteria food. Just pick it up with your hands.” Phil gave him a dubious look at this, to which Tyler shrugged. “What can I say man, we’re allowed therapy classes and unlimited library access, but forks apparently did not make the list of luxuries offered.”

 

As Phil dubiously began to nibble at his food, Tyler pointed people out to him, as he promised he would. 

 

“Okay, if you look to that table over there, you can see Felix and his gang.” Tyler nodded slightly to a table far to the right. “Felix himself is the Swedish man yelling right now, with the blonde hair and knuckle tattoos. He will beat you up if given the chance, don’t doubt that. The brunette hanging off of his arm is Marzia. They’ve been dating for approximately forever, and robbed something like twenty three banks throughout Sweden together before they were caught. But hey man, who’s counting?” 

 

Phil nodded, understanding. “Right. Avoid Felix.” His voice could barely be heard over 

 

Tyler smiled a little bit. “He’s not the only one you should be concerned about. The two next to him, all cuddled up with the red and green hair are known as Jack and Mark, though there is some speculation as to whether or not Jack is really the irish one’s name. They were both sent here because their countries wanted to spy on america, off the record. So of course they took the full blame. Since they got here, they’ve been inseparable. Kind of sweet actually.” Tyler commented. “Whatever you do, do not ask them if they’re dating,” He tacked on at the end, almost as an afterthought. 

 

“Are they?” Phil wondered aloud, his blue eyes carefully trained on the short asian man and his heavily tattooed companion. 

 

Tyler snorted at that. “Like it even matters at this point. You get in here, it’s not exactly like you can book a summer wedding. However, they haven’t come out and said anything, nor do they need to.” He shrugged. “I would honestly be happy just to have that close of a relationship with anyone in a place like this, no matter the type.” 

 

Phil nodded at that, feeling a slight pang of guilt in his chest for trying to pry into their lives, even if they didn’t know it. “So who’s the one with the blue hair then?” He asked quietly. 

 

“That’s Ethan Nestor. Youngest inmate in the building, and apparently, he fights dirty. Felix tried to give him his stereotypical ‘welcome beating,’ and no one knows exactly what went down, but apparently the kid took him down. Next day, he was sitting at their table, easy as that.” 

 

Phil nodded slowly, sipping his drink and wrinkling his nose. He set that off to the side, moving on to the rest of his dinner. 

 

“Another man named Tyler as well usually hangs with them, but I don’t know exactly where he’s gone,” Tyler mused. “Anyways, he’s the strong and silent type, with those lovely brooding eyes and short cut curls. Just watch out for him, he’s fairly strong, but he can sneak up on you. You don’t want to know what he’s in here for either.” 

 

_ So he’s basically your polar opposite.  _ Phil bit his tongue. 

 

“Now then,” Tyler cracked his knuckles. “Before I give you the rest of the super important information that could potentially save your life or at least prevent serious future mental and physical scarring, let’s have some useless small talk, shall we? How are you finding the food?” 

 

Phil blinked in surprise. “Um… I liked the food. Uh, the-” He checked the bottle. “The protein drink, not so much.” He offered a timid smile. -

 

“Oh! I should have told you about those, they suck,” Tyler grinned. “I had one my first day too, and haven’t had one since.”

 

Phil nodded slowly.    
  
“Yeah man,” Tyler chuckled. “So, you got a family you had to leave?” 

 

Phil nods. 

 

“Girlfriend?”   
  


Phil shakes his head, cheeks reddening. 

 

“Boyfriend?” Tyler’s eyes sparkle as he says that. 

 

Phil shakes his head yet again, his cheeks now reddening even further, the flush travelling down further now, under his shirt collar. He could feel the heat of the flush. 

 

“Oh well.” Tyler shrugged, seemingly unfazed by this mostly one sided conversation. He sat back, his food mostly finished, taking a quick peek at the clock. “We’re getting pretty close to the end of dinner, I should probably finish pointing people out while I still can. 

 

Phil nodded once more with renewed vigor. “I’d like that, please,” he stated, just as quiet as before.  _ Please just stop asking me questions.  _

 

Tyler nodded, gesturing to the left side of the room this side, to a table seemingly placed as far away from Felix’s as possible. “That’s Daniel’s table.” Tyler glanced around. “Okay, let’s start with that dude with the glasses, like you, kinda normal, kinda boring looking.”

 

_ I resent that.  _

 

“That’s Peej. He’s a hacker of sorts. Almost made it into the Pentagon, apparently. He’s Daniel’s right hand man.”

 

Phil could feel himself nodding in respect, if only a little. 

 

“The blonde playing cards to his left with the tongue piercing and music notes all over his body is Troye, he’s skinny, but he’s scrappy. You don’t want to get on his bad side. Used to sell drugs, smuggle them across borders and the such. Never did them himself, however.” 

 

_ Well that’s something at least.  _ Somehow, Phil doubted his snarky response would go down well in this environment. 

 

“The brunette he’s playing cards with, the one with the eyebrow piercing, he’s Connor. Apparently, he’s just in here for tax evasion.” 

 

“Oh.” Phil blinked in surprise. He had been getting worked up to hear the next horrible crime that had been committed, and after all of the others, this just felt… underwhelming. Still, he appreciated the anticlimactic ending. 

 

“And the brunette across from him is Chris, though he’s not technically a part of the group. I don’t think he and Daniel have ever really gotten along that well, but he clearly just doesn’t care enough to push Chris away. Plus, an extra hand always helps in the event that a fight breaks out.” Tyler stood suddenly, grabbing his tray. “Come on, I’ll finish telling you about the group after we dump our trays.” 

 

Phil nodded at that, standing up, and grabbing his tray as well. As he followed Tyler to the trash can, he could almost feel the other inmate’s stares on his back. His legs shook slightly as he took one hand off his tray to push up his glasses, his gaze on the floor and so focused on the act that he completely missed Tyler’s call over his shoulder to, “Turn left here.” 

 

Phil smashed straight into another inmate’s chest, stumbling back a few steps and falling on his butt. “Oof!” He squeaked out in pain, hand coming up to lightly massage his forehead. 

 

As he sat there, it came to his attention that the room had gone dead silent. He blinked and looked up, his face paling as he noticed spilled drink all over the shirt of the man he had bumped into. Quickly, Phil scrambled back slightly, taking in the curly brown hair, the snakebites, the tattoos of fire dancing in a band around his bicep. His expression was unreadable.

 

Phil could almost hear the whispers now. 

 

_ “It’s him…”  _

 

_ “And on his first day too…”  _

 

_ “Fresh meat.”  _

 

_ “Bumping into  _ him _ of all people.”  _

 

And then a voice really did break though the silence. “Daniel!” It was Peej, shoving his way through the crowd. “Oh, that looks unpleasant.” 

 

And as Phil made eye contact with the chocolate brown eyes of none other than Daniel Howell, the scariest person in the building, he felt his heart leap into his throat. Now he was screwed for sure. 

 

_ Uh oh. _


	2. Settling Down

Daniel Howell blinked slowly, staring Phil down for only a moment more before looking down to the drink spilled all down his front. One moment was enough. Phil wanted to wilt away into nothingness.

 

“S-sorry.”

 

The word hangs in the air, uncertain. Phil feels amazed that he even got up the courage just to utter that.

 

“What are you doing here?” Daniel’s voice was low, but not gravelly. He seemed to be speaking a bit quieter than someone of his height and confidence should be, but that might also have been because you could still hear a pin drop in the room. His voice was actually pleasantly low, now that Phil focused on that, rather than the staring and attention from the other inmates, and his accent was rich and smooth. His brow furrowed slightly as he said those words, and Phil swore he was hearing things, but was that just a hint of amusement in his voice?

 

“U-uh,” He managed to stutter out intelligently. _Excuse me?_

 

Daniel waited patiently. Phil swallowed down the lump in his throat, tongue poking out to wet his lips slightly before shakily responding. “Dumping my tray?” The way he said it made it sound more like a question.

  
There is a terrible moment of silence. “Yeah, that sounds about right, dumping it all over me,” Daniel Howell chuckles, actually chuckles at that, and Phil blinks at the warm sound.

 

“Sorry again about that,” He manages to squeak out.

 

By now people have started to go back to their own business, if with an air of disappointment surrounding them. _Did they want him to beat me up?_ Phil wonders nervously.

 

“But that’s not what I meant,” Dan says, his voice lower than it was before. “I asked what you were doing here.”

 

“Oh, I-” Phil cast his eyes to the ground. “I-i’m not so sure…”

 

The ghost of a frown seems to tug at Dan’s lips. Phil could have sworn he’d muttered “Evidently,” under his breath. “Come on.” Daniel finally said, holding out a hand for Phil to help himself up with. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

 

“Oh you don’t have to-“ But Daniel had already taken his hand, and he was almost speechless at the fact that Daniel’s warm hand almost completely engulfed his slender fingers. And then Daniel was leading him down the hall, walking slightly ahead of him, almost as if Phil was his lost dog.

 

Phil’s heart was pounding in his ears, his face was flushed, and he was doing his best just to keep up with Daniel’s long legs. _Please slow down!_ They made an unlikely pair, the two of them. Daniel with his harsh gaze, tattoos and piercings, and a huge stain on the front of his shirt, and Phil, stumbling along, just doing his best not to trip over his own feet, his hand clutched tightly in the larger boy’s.

 

“Hope you don’t mind if we make a quick pit stop,” Daniel said, offhand, and then they were standing in front of a door that Phil didn’t recognize. “I don’t want to walk around the complex with cold liquid all down my front.”

 

“No, no, that’s fine by me,” he squeaked out. A passing inmate gave the two of them a strange look out of the corner of his eye, and then Daniel pushed open the door. He finally released Phil’s hand then, and Phil almost jumped at the feeling of his hand finally being freed. He’d honestly forgotten he was still holding Daniel’s hand. _His hands were so warm,_ he thought. And then, _Phil, stop blushing. He’s literally the most dangerous prisoner in this complex._

 

Luckily for him, Daniel’s back was to him. Unluckily for him, Daniel crossed his arms, grabbing the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head and _holy shit he could literally kill me._ The muscles of Daniel’s back were well defined, and Phil thought futilely back to his noodle arms, taking an involuntary step back, his back almost touching the wall.

 

The door was still open.

 

Phil tried his best not to let out a little squeak of horror as he realized just how easily and with how little effort Daniel could literally crush him. His cheeks were now tinted pink.

 

“Come on.” Daniel turned back to him, seemingly unfazed,  jerking his head, and walking right back out the door.

 

And that was that, and they were on their way down the hall again. Phil’s heart had not slowed down, and he felt pumped with more adrenaline than he ever had. _Oh god it’s like all the prison stories he’s going to beat me up where he won’t get in trouble and I won’t be able to do anything at all about it because did you see how fit he was? I think the last time I exercised was when I was twenty, oh god, oh no._

 

“So, Phillip.” Daniel said quietly. “Tell me about yourself.” _Is he walking slower? I think he’s walking slower._

 

 _The more you talk the less time he has to kill you._ “I e-enjoy video games, and I watch, well I watched a good bit of anime. Um, I like the band Muse, and I am- was a meteorologist. I also like plants, though I can’t seem to keep many of them alive for a long time…” Phil stuttered out, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and running his fingers through his quiff.

 

“Well shoot,” Daniel mumbled under his breath.

 

“I’m sorry?” Phil cocked his head slightly, his brain still doing its best to make him engage in one of two fight or flight reflexes.

 

“I said that’s cute!” Daniel blurred out. He made direct eye contact, as if daring Phil to challenge him, and Phil’s eyes widened in surprise. “Plants. Botany is adorable.”

 

“I- oh.”

 

Phil looked down, a smile ghosting across his lips despite the situation. _Bloodthirsty killer, Phil. He could crush you with one hand. He burns down houses for fun._

 

“Well, here we are.” Daniel was standing in front of Phil and Tyler’s room. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Phil wondered how Daniel already knew where he slept.

 

Peering into the slightly open doorway, Phil could see the room was dark. He turned back to Dan, who had an odd look on his face. _Oh shit, here it comes, I knew it had to happen eventually. Tyler warned me about this, there’s no way he’d let me off that easily._ Phil braced himself internally for a blow, but all that came was a soft caress on his left cheek.

 

Phil’s eyes snapped open, but Dan was already backing away, looking less sure of himself than Phil had ever seen him. “Have a nice night, Phil.” His voice was soft.

 

Phil reached up to touch his cheek softly where Daniel had only moments earlier. The skin burned red hot.

 

\-----

 

The next morning, when Phil awoke, blinking sleep from his eyes, Tyler was sitting in the middle of the room again, eyes closed and earbuds in.

 

Phil hesitantly swung his legs off the bed, realizing with a stab of guilt that he had fallen asleep on the bottom bunk without even consulting Tyler about it. Carefully, he walked over, poking Tyler on the shoulder cautiously. Immediately, the thief’s eyes snapped open, and he pulled one earbud out. “Morning to you,” He nodded, grinning. “I was relieved to come back to the room and see you weren’t dead.

 

Phil did his best to crack a smile. “Me too.”

 

Tyler picked up the small square of metal on the floor next to him, pressing the big, circular button in the center of it and pulling his other earbud out. At Phil’s quizzical look, he snorted. “Trust me, there’s nothing on here but a pre-recorded meditation routine. Standard, you can pick them up in the library”

 

Phil nodded mutely.

 

Tyler looked a little concerned at that. “Are you sure you’re okay? Daniel didn’t hurt you, did he? Cause, I’ll-”

 

“I took the bottom bunk last night!” Phil blurted out, feeling kind of stupid, his cheeks flushing, something that was becoming a more common occurrence these days.

 

Tyler blinked at him. “And?”

 

“Maybe it was your bunk?” Phil mumbled.

 

Tyler laughed outright at that, rolling his eyes. “Sweetie, you’re good. I had already taken the top bunk when you got here.”

 

“Oh. Right.” Phil said stupidly, feeling as though his responses were slightly scripted.

 

“Come on, idiot, I’ll show you where the breakfast bar is,” Tyler chuckled. “You must be hungry by now, it’s almost nine thirty.”

 

Phil felt another tiny stab of guilt. “Did you wait for me?” He whispered.

 

Tyler just shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t usually really eat until after my morning meditation. But I usually head straight to the gym after that, so I’m afraid guiding you to the food is as far as I can take you, I can’t stick around or anything.” He looked slightly nervous about this fact for a moment, before smiling at Phil, just a little bit too wide to be real.

 

As they walked down the halls, Phil noticed more inmates than he had last night, all a lovely mismatch of hair dye, tattoos, and piercings. He shivered slightly and slid a little closer to Tyler, who simply waved and smiled at the intimidating inmates and pried Phil off of his arm.

 

“It’s only because of your little encounter with Daniel last night,” Tyler reassured him, walking through the double doors and baking a beeline for the breakfast buffet. “It’s not you. Now come on, breakfast is a little more lax than dinner. You don’t have to eat in the dining hall, but if you don’t…” Tyler paused, his eyes a little glazed as he recounted something from the past. “Just don’t leave breakfast plates anywhere. Trust me, they’ll _know_ it was you.” He hesitated at that, looking Phil up and down one more time. “Just... try not to get murdered while I’m working out.”

 

And with that sentiment, Tyler had grabbed a bagel, stuck it in his mouth, and disappeared into the crowd. Phil’s reply of _wait, I’ll go with you_ died in his throat.

 

“He didn’t even butter it or anything…” A deep voice spoke from behind Phil, causing him to leap about a foot and a half in the air, whirling around, eyes wide.

 

“Woah..” _Daniel?_ The man in question put his arms up almost as if he were under arrest, a smirk gracing the corner of his lips, almost like a predator, knowing they had cornered their prey. _That would be me. I’m the prey._ Phil shied away from him slightly. “Remember?” Daniel continued, “You spilled protein drink all down my front yesterday?” _He doesn’t sound particularly… angry._

 

“Hi,” Phil tried for a calm and collected smile, though he was worried it came out more of a grimace.

 

“Sit with us.” _The statement itself was clearly supposed to be an order, so why do I feel like I have a choice?_ Phil nodded, cautiously grabbing a bagel for himself.

 

“Great.” And then Daniel had ahold of his wrist, and though he was tugging Phil along, none of Daniel’s movements felt particularly controlling or forceful. _Pyromaniac. He’s in here for a reason,_ his brain helpfully supplied for him.

 

Dan nearly bounded over to the table, dragging Phil into view, almost as if he was a particularly interesting seashell he had found on the beach, or maybe an especially ripe apple that he picked all by himself. “Everyone, this is Phil,” Dan said, head held high, motioning to Phil. Then he turned to Phil. “Do you mind if I call you Phil? I assume you don’t go by Phillip.”

 

 _Wow, he almost looks like he cares._ “Phil is fine,” Phil smiled slightly.

 

“Quiet one,” Peej commented.

 

No one else even looked up from what they were doing.

 

Phil could almost feel Dan gritting his teeth next to him. At some point, Dan’s hand had fallen on his shoulder. “Phil, these social butterflies are Peej, Troye, Connor, and Chris. Usually, Anthony would be joining us, but he’s occupied at this time.”

 

“Oh, shove off, Howell.”

 

Phil worked up his courage. “What happened to him?”

 

“He got into a fight with Tyler,” Chris piped up. Seeing Phil’s confused head tilt, he giggled. “Not that Tyler, silly, _their_ Tyler.” He gestured over to where Felix and his crew were slouching, managing to look like they were loitering in a place where it was physically impossible to loiter.

 

“Oh.”

 

“It was a couple weeks ago,” Dan explained. “He should be returning sometime later this week actually, which is good. We’ll be needing him.”  
  
Troye nodded, sliding forward a little bit. “I have a feeling we’re going to need him a lot sooner than we should. I say we take initiative for once, get them to lay off of us, finally.”

 

“Troye…” Dan’s tone was reprimanding, though not uncomfortably harsh. “Remember, we are _not_ here to fight anyone. We’ll do what we have to, but we don’t want another instance like Jack and Dean.” _But I thought he was supposed to be the toughest inmate here? He doesn’t want to beat anyone up?_

 

The group nodded solemnly, gazing down at their various breakfasts. Daniel took another small bite of the french toast in front of him. Troye and Connor were sharing a fruit plate, and Chris had some kind of American pancake on his plate, light and fluffy. There was a satisfying noise as Troye shuffled the cards he was holding.

 

Phil mostly sat quietly next to Dan the whole meal, trying to look as small and nonthreatening as possible. From the way that no one else spared him a second glance, it appeared to be working. He took another small bite of his bagel, and of course that was the moment that Dan turned to face him. “So, Phil,” He started, and Phil did his best not to choke on his bite, swallowing it quickly. “You play poker?”

 

_Well I don’t know what I was expecting, but it sure as heck wasn’t that._

 

“Um, kind of?” Phil looked up into Dan’s eyes, hoping they wouldn’t question his vague answer further.

 

“You’ll catch on quick.” _Another command._ And yet, Dan’s eyes were soft, so Phil just nodded and gave him a small smile of conformation that, yes, he would like to play. The resulting smile that broke out across Dan’s face, the pure happiness, made his actions worth it.  
  
Peej rolled his eyes off to the side, an endearing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

 

It took Daniel and his group of friends approximately three minutes to realize that Phil was _really fucking good_ at poker. The moment Phil relaxed, really starting to calm down and enjoy himself, he began crushing them.

 

All the while, Daniel still had that small grin, just playing his cards the best he could. Phil came to the assumption that Dan was not naturally a poker player, and that seemed to allow him to relax further, going so far as to giggle good naturedly as he took the last of Dan’s chips for his own, along with the rest of the pot.  
  
“Getting cocky now, are we?” Dan’s voice was a low rumble, though the way he was looking at Phil simply gave him butterflies.

 

“S’not cocky if I’m better than you, Danny,” Phil grinned back at him. _Where is this courage coming from?_

 

“You spork, that’s exactly what that word means!” Daniel chuckled, moving as if he were going to shove Phil’s shoulder, hesitating, and reconsidering. He fell silent.

 

Phil slowly leaned over, bumping their shoulders together, seeing Daniel’s face light up. His brain screamed at him. He ignored it.

 

\-----

 

Phil didn’t see Daniel and his friends again for a while. He had remembered Tyler bringing up the library at one point during their talk, and he desperately wanted to look through the books, and hopefully check at least a few out.

 

Ducking through the double doors, Phil was greeted with a sight leaving him speechless. There were rows upon rows of books, and while none of them were particularly extravagant or eye catching, the worn bindings reminded him more of sleepy nights in front of the fire at home or sleepless nights during college studying than any decoration ever could.

 

He walked through the aisles, trailing his hand along a few of the spines nostalgically.

 

“You can take a few, if you want.”

 

The soft voice startled Phil out of his trance, and he whirled around in confusion, only to be met with a short blonde woman. She was smiling sweetly at him, and was wearing what appeared to be normal clothing, as opposed to the classic orange jumpsuit look the majority of the residents in this prison appeared to be sporting. Her name tag read _Louise_.

 

“Oh! Thank you.” Phil smiled. “Sorry about that, you scared me.”

 

Louise smiled at him. “It was my fault, really.” She spoke with a British accent, similar to his. “I’m Louise.”

 

“Phil,” He smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

“Likewise,” She giggled. “So what were you planning on taking out? I’ll just need to make note of it, standard procedure really.” She rolled her eyes slightly at that, her eyes still crinkled with a grin, and Phil couldn’t help but do the same.

 

He crossed his arms thoughtfully. “Well,” He said. “I was wondering if there was a poetry section you could point out to me…”

 

By the time he left the library, book clutched tightly to his chest, Phil was smiling, actually smiling, relaxed and content. It wasn’t the same kind of happiness he had felt earlier, no, that was mixed with confusion and terror, tainted with distrust. This was the kind of pure happiness he could feel in his bones, the kind one would feel in discovering they had found a new friend, or the kind you felt after a discussion with like minded people.

 

He was still smiling as he closed the door, waving one last goodbye to Louise, and walked down the hall. He was even still smiling by the time he rounded the corner, right up until he registered the forms lurking in the slightly darker corridor.

  
Felix leaned forward then, a maniacal grin spreading out across his face. “Hey there, _princess_."

 

Phil could feel his heart sink down into his stomach. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys all so much for the wonderful comments and kudos, they make my heart sing with joy! :D


	3. Welcoming Ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh so this chapter starts out bad (violence) but I swear it all evaporates into fluff fairly quickly.

Felix was looming above him, and while Phil was mostly sure he had an extra few inches on the Swedish man, he had no intentions to use that to his advantage here, and he hunkered down as best he could, moving to step back, turn around the corner, run back to the safety of the library.

 

His leg twitched as he made to turn around, but Felix saw that coming, and he reached out with both arms, grabbing the orange collar of Phil’s jumpsuit. “Not so fast,” He grinned. His eyes were wild, and somewhere, in the back of his mind, Phil thought he saw a glint of pity, though in a heartbeat it was gone, replaced with sheer glee. “You’ve been evading us up until this point,” Felix stated, almost conversationally, slamming Phil roughly against the wall. He winced at that, letting out a little hiss of pain. “Oh, you think _that’s_ bad, wait until we get to the real welcoming ceremony.” Felix grinned again, and Phil vaguely registered that he had a small tattoo on his neck, just a simple _12_.

 

Jack and Mark were right behind Felix, flanking him. While Jack was cracking his knuckles and his eyes had lit up with the same glee in Felix’s, Mark looked almost bored, twirling the end of his red dyed hair with one hand and looking off into the distance. Marzia was sitting cross legged on the floor, inspecting her nails behind them.

 

Ethan was leaning against the other wall when Phil walked in on their loitering, but now he kicked himself off said wall, strutting across the short corridor to stand next to Jack.

 

“Do you know what we do to new inmates?” A newer, deeper voice surprised Phil, and he whipped his head around to see a tall man with dark hair step out of the darkness as well, arms crossed, an unimpressed look on his face. _Tyler._

 

Phil shook his head quickly, straining briefly against the hand holding him to the wall. He could read the letters off of Felix’s knuckles, ‘back away.’ _Oh god, someone, please help me._

 

“Well, first, we intimidate them, like so.” Tyler motioned to where Phil was quivering against the wall, eyes blown wide with fear. “And then…” He leaned closer, showing off his eyebrow piercing and nose ring. “And then, we do this.”

 

Phil had barely opened his mouth, confused, before Felix’s fist came square in contact with his nose. Phil cried out as pain raced through his body, trying to double over, his hands trying to cup his nose, but another fist came, this time bruising his cheek and snapping his head to the right. He could feel a trickle of blood run down his cheek, hot and metallic, as his eyes welled up with tears.

 

Felix paused then, looking disdainfully at his bloodied fist before grinning again, addressing Phil almost offhandedly. “You know, you really are quite _pretty_ , it’s a shame that Howell got to you before we did. Made our lives a hell of a lot harder, with him trying his best at every turn to _protect you,_ ” he slurred, his tone mocking. “Like his little ‘claim’ would stop us.”

 

Phil wilted under his jeering, still trying his best to become one with the wall.

 

“But Howell isn’t here anymore,” Felix smirked as he lifted his fist up again. “There’s no one here to protect you now, Phillip.” He then let go of Phil’s collar, allowing him to slide down to the floor, letting out a small whimper of pain and curling in on himself. Felix stepped back. “Have at him, boys.”

 

The first kick came from Jack, most likely fueled entirely by excitement, causing Phil to let out his loudest cry yet. Mark’s kick came next, and while Phil still hissed at the contact, he was definitely less invested, almost disinterested.

 

The kicks kept coming, and Phil kept crying out, even as his bruised body kept being abused. He curled in on himself, unable to see anything through the blur of tears in his eyes. _Please, anyone,  help._ Suddenly, there was a kick directly to his stomach, and all of the air was pushed from his lungs. Phil doubled over even further, coughing up a bit of blood.

 

They didn’t care, they kept laughing and taunting him, jeering and mocking. “What, Phillip, can’t deal with a little pain?” Felix taunted, still kicking at him, though Phil couldn’t tell if he was making contact or missing him at this point. His whole body was numb.

 

Even as he laid there, he could hear shouting from above him. _Help,_ he cried out, _please help me._ He couldn’t tell if he was making any noise or not. There were pounding footsteps, and then Felix cried out in pain, the people surrounding him disappearing, fleeing down the hallway.

 

“Yeah, that’s right, run away while you still can!” Someone was snarling. “You lay another hand on him and I’ll kill you, you hear me?”

 

Phil groaned slightly, rolling over and blinking through a haze of blood and tears.

 

Suddenly, the voice was softer, laced with worry. “Phil, Phil, can you hear me? Are you okay, Phil?” Someone was squatting beside him, someone with concern pooling in their deep, chocolate brown eyes.

  
Phil let out another little whimper.

 

“Oh, I’m going to murder Felix,” the man snarled, and then, “Phil, I’m going to have to pick you up to take you to the infirmary, okay?”

 

Phil nodded, grateful, and then he felt two arms reach around him, dancing over his skin delicately, almost as if Phil were about to shatter in this man’s arms. Slowly, he could feel the man’s grip on him tighten, and then slowly lift him against a warm chest. Hissing out in pain at the sudden change of position, Phil heard the man murmur, “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” and begin to walk briskly down the hall.

 

Feeling safe enough to close his eyes, Phil rested his head more securely against the man’s chest and slowly let his eyelids drop, allowing sleep to claim him.

 

\-----

 

When Phil came to, his mouth was dry and he felt like he’d been through hell and back. He blinked a few times, his eyes suddenly shooting open, then squinting almost completely closed again at the bright light. Everything was white. “My glasses,” He tried to exclaim, but it came out more of a croak than anything else, and he doubled over coughing.

 

He was in a white bed, and there were machines all around, as well as a soft beeping that Phil didn’t care to interpret, so he chalked it up to background noise.

 

“I’m sorry,” A guilty sounding voice came from his left. “They were crushed when I found you.”   
  
Phil turned his head slightly, making eye contact with Daniel Howell, who seemed to be wringing his hands and looking quite distraught over Phil’s state of being. “Oh,” he whispered, looking the man over. Daniel looked as though he hadn’t slept in a while, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he kept nervously tapping his foot on the floor.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get there sooner, I didn’t think-” Daniel sighed, closing his eyes briefly and biting his bottom lip. “I didn’t think they would do anything if I…”

 

“Claimed me?” Phil managed to get out.

 

Dan’s eyes shot open. “What did he tell you?” _Is this the same Dan I ran into yesterday?_ Phil wondered. He didn’t even stop to wonder when he had registered Daniel as Dan in his head. _He’s so… emotional._

 

“Said a lotta things,” Phil murmured, letting his head rest back onto the pillow. “Said that I was pretty, said you were protecting me, said it wasn’t gonna stop them from beating me up.” He felt a little lightheaded, though he suspected it was the morphine drip.

 

Dan gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry, I just thought maybe it would stop it from happening to you too…” He groaned, stopping just short of dropping his head into his hands.

 

“Is that why you invited me to play poker with your friends?” Phil wondered aloud. “Just to keep me away from them?”

 

“No! Well, um…” Dan stuttered a little bit, coloring red. “Just a little bit, but-” He really did put his head in his hands that time. “Oh god I didn’t do this right at all.” He looked up to meet Phil’s eyes this time, and Phil found himself lost in them. _His eyes are beautiful._ Dan continued steamrolling through what had become a mostly one-sided conversation at this point. “I swear I actually wanted to talk to you and get to know you better. I mean, I guess I thought that was obvious by the whole not wanting you to get beat up and all, and I just assumed you’d be grateful for the protection, since you couldn’t do it yourself. Not that you’re weak! I was just saying that I thought you might want someone who’s been here for ages to help you out- oh jesus, I don’t mean it like that, I just thought-” Dan ran his fingers through his curls nervously, his foot picking up its tapping. “But in the end, I was still too late and I’m just so sorry.”

 

“Dan!” Phil laughed out, despite the aching in his chest. “Trust me, it’s okay.” _This is a whole new side of Dan. I didn’t think people like him could get flustered._ “You’ve been more than kind, with me meeting you by spilling my tray all down your front. Thank you.” Phil paused. “Mostly though, thank you for not beating me up the second you met me.”

 

Dan chuckled weakly at that, and Phil joined him a moment later. “You spork! I wouldn’t have done that even if you spilled ten trays on me,” he said confidently.

 

“You might have to eat your words there, Howell, I’m pretty clumsy, you might reconsider after time eleven.” Phil smiled, a genuine smile. “Friends?” He offered.

 

“Yeah. Friends.” Dan smiled, and was Phil just imagining that momentary spark of sadness behind his gaze? He must have been, because Dan was now smiling like the sun, and Phil didn’t think he’d ever seen anything prettier.

 

Phil spent about three more days recovering in the complex’s infirmary, three days where he sat immobile on a white covered bed. Three days, during which Dan visited him almost religiously. He would always strut through the door, face set in a scowl and arms tensed up, and then slowly relax, as though he were shedding layers of clothing. His posture suffered, his steps became more tentative, and every day, the moment he saw Phil, his face would break out into a huge smile.

 

The first day, when Dan walked in and sat down in the little plastic seat across from Phil, they had barely spoken for thirty seconds when Phil commented offhand about how boring he had been in the little white room, and how he hoped his book wasn’t lost in the scuffle with Felix.

  
Dan had promptly teased him on his use of the word “scuffle” saying, “I didn’t know people actually said that! You sound so proper!”

 

_It’s a bit odd,_ he thought, _being teased by the strongest and most respected, if not feared, inmate in the complex._ But all Phil felt now when he spoke to Daniel was safe, and so he teased Dan right back. “Oh, come off it! Out of the two of us, you sound much more proper, _Winnie the Pooh_!”

 

Dan just stifled a giggle, _a giggle,_ behind one of his enormous hands and shook his head. “I’m not proper, I’m articulate!” He informed Phil, head high. Then he paused. “What book did you leave in the hallway?”

 

The second day that Dan visited Phil, he came bearing another copy of the book that Phil had lost in his fight with Felix (Dan refused to call it a scuffle) as well as some chocolate chip waffles. Phil was so touched by the gesture that he didn’t have the heart to let Dan know that without his glasses, he couldn’t see much of anything, let alone all of the tiny words on the pages of a book.  
  
“I didn’t put up much of a fight,” Phil argued halfheartedly for the third time that day, grabbing a waffle and taking a bite from it. “Plus, it wasn’t even big enough to really be considered anything more.”

 

“Still, you’re in prison now. We don’t have scuffles, we have fights.” Dan smirked a little, stealing a corner off of one of Phil’s waffles, causing the blue eyed man to let out a small irritated sound.

 

“Yes, big, manly fights. Because we’re men,” Phil deadpanned after he had swallowed. “Grr, masculinity.”

 

Dan burst out laughing, the spot on his cheek turning a rosy pink as he did, and Phil smiled. Dan always looked so carefree when he was laughing. Also, Phil was pretty sure that every time someone heard Dan Howell truly laugh, that alone added ten years to their life.

 

“Is that food? In _my_ infirmary?” The nurse shrieked then, causing both of them to jump and Phil to choke on his waffle.

 

The third day that Dan came to visit Phil, Phil was asleep when Dan walked in, so Dan just sat down in the little plastic chair he was occupying so often recently, picked up the book of poetry from Phil’s bedside, and flipped to a random page.

 

He began softly murmuring the words under his breath, even while Phil was still asleep, because it was so peaceful, and maybe, just maybe, if he squinted, he could imagine that he was just reading Phil a story before he went to sleep. He didn’t have to look at the bruises that decorated Phil’s pale skin, or see the way his breathing caught for just a moment now before evening out.

 

Phil woke up slowly that day, to a deep voice instead of machines beeping, and it took him only a moment more to realize that it was in fact Dan who he had woken up to. Smiling sleepily, he turned on his side to get a better look at the brunette. However, the moment he turned, Dan froze, closing the book quickly.

 

“Phil, you’re up.” Dan’s smile was no less warm than it had been in days before, but he was slowly inching the poetry book from his lap, almost as if he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Okay,” Phil said softly, looking up at Dan’s eyes as he rested his head on his hand then. “Why’d you stop? It was nice.”

 

Dan flushed a deep red immediately. “Oh, you know, I was just flipping through to keep myself from getting too bored. You know how it it. You don’t want to hear me read from some old book anyway.”

 

“It’s okay to like poetry, Dan,” Phil said gently. “And I would love to hear you read from the book some more. It’s my favorite collection and you have such a nice reading voice.” He blinked sleepily once more and snuggled a little closer to the pillow.

 

“I love poetry,” Dan whispered, so softly, Phil almost missed it.

 

And so, tentatively, Dan cracked the book back open to the page he left off on, and read the first haiku off the top of the page.

 

_I think I’m falling_

_And I can’t stop myself now_

_I’m scared I love you_

 

The fourth day, when Dan stepped into the room, he was holding a small bundle of flowers. Phil was sitting up in his bed, and the moment he saw Dan, he grinned, waving the arm that the nurse wasn’t fussing around with in a cheery greeting.   
  
“I finally get out of here today!” Phil felt more animated than ever, excited to be able to finally move around without pain. He had gotten antsy during his time in the infirmary, and while a part of his brain still screamed _Danger!_ at him constantly, he couldn’t help but push that away in favor of excitement over finally being mobile again.

 

Dan chuckled, handing over the flowers, which Phil accepted gratefully, inhaling deeply. “You sure are.”

 

“How did you even manage to get me flowers?” Phil was positively beaming. _I think this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me._

 

“Pulled a few strings, had a conversation with Louise when I dropped by the library,” Dan said vaguely, waving his hand around.

 

Phil let out an over exaggerated gasp, pretending to look shocked. “I didn’t know the great Daniel Howell read books!” A smile quirked the corner of his lips.

 

Dan just rolled his eyes. “Of course I read, you idiot. I’ve been here since 2012, you think I haven’t explored the library yet?” He snarked back, though there was no malice behind his words.

 

Phil just kept on with the charade. “Oh my gosh, call the press! The world needs to know! This is the biggest news since that cat video I watched the day before my trial!” However, Phil couldn’t keep going, not with Daniel looking at him like _that,_ and he soon dissolved into giggles, his tongue sticking out in the way it did when he let himself laugh with no worries.

 

“I think there are more important things that the press needs to cover,” Dan said while Phil hopped off the table, thanking the nurse as he did. “Phillip Lester, just what do you plan to do with all of your newfound time?” He held his hand out to Phil as if he was holding a microphone for him to speak into.

 

“Well I was hoping I could spend it with you.” Phil’s answer came out soft, and he was looking at the ground now, and Dan knew they were being serious because his voice was all quiet, almost like when they first met and Phil didn’t think he was allowed to speak, and nothing broke Dan’s heart more than that thought.

 

“Of course,” Dan smiled at him, tilting his chin up with one hand so he could look him in the eye. “I would love nothing more.”

 

Phil cast his gaze downward yet again, the ghost of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. He ignored the red flush that was slowly covering his cheeks and neck, and instead reached over to the table to grab the book of poems. “Thank you, Dan.” He said, finally smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I put my own poetry into a "published book," whatcha gonna do? Lmao I had so much fun writing this chapter that I posted it earlier than I thought I would.


	4. Backstory

Dan and he walked back down the hallway together, so close that Phil could feel their hands brushing ever so slightly, and if he just reached out a little bit more, stretched his hand just a tad further, he could brush the pads of his fingers against Dan’s palm. That thought sent a coil of heat to his stomach, and he brushed it off as adrenaline, eyeing some of the other inmates wandering nearby, a new spike of fear entering his system with each that he saw. 

 

A tall, lean boy with dark brown hair and eyes, almost like Dan’s, walked by them. Phil stiffened slightly as the boy looked over his shoulder, seemingly doing a double take. Standing in a doorway nearby were two girls, one with short brown hair and one with longer, curly red hair. They seemed deep in discussion, and neither of them appeared particularly malicious either, both being shorter than him, though Phil swore that they both looked up as he and Dan passed. He could feel his heart rate pick up slightly as he tried unconsciously to get even closer to Dan. 

 

Phil was so preoccupied with everyone else in the hall that he didn’t seem to catch Dan staring at him, a mixture of adoration and concern. 

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

 

Phil jumped slightly at Dan’s voice, turning to look him in the eye. “Sorry?”

 

“Oh, it means I’m asking what you’re thinking. You look deep in thought, and I hate to break your concentration, but I was curious as to why you seemed to be trying to superglue our sides together. Care to share, Phillip?” 

 

“Oh, um…”  _ I do know what ‘penny for your thoughts’ means…  _ Phil looked down to the ground nervously, causing Dan to frown a little.  _ Oh no, I upset him.  _ “It’s not you, it’s everyone else,” Phil tried to explain quietly. 

 

Dan blinked, a bit confused now. “Run that by me again?” 

 

He flushed heavily in embarrassment. “I’m scared,” Phil whispered out. If his face had been red before, it was certainly burning now.    
  


“Oh,” Dan said softly, and then grabbed his hand, squeezing it a little. “Come on, you could have just told me that.”

 

Phil had no idea where Dan was taking him, though he was relieved that Dan had set a slightly slower pace than the first night he had dragged him somewhere. There were so many twists and turns to this complex, Phil was amazed that Dan seemingly still knew where he was going. 

 

When they finally stopped, they were in front of a room that Phil didn’t recognise. “What’s this?” His tone was questioning, but in response, Dan just gave him a small smile and opened the door to the room, gesturing for Phil to go first. 

 

Phil blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the sudden light. “Oh.” He let out a soft whisper. All around them were plants, of all shapes and sizes. He could hear the trickling of water on river stones in the background, and light trickled down from a skylight on the ceiling, high above them. Taller bushes formed an arch in front of them, and Dan once more took his hands, leading him through them silently. 

 

Phil’s eyes widened, almost impossibly further. There was the noise he kept hearing, a small fountain with water gurgling cheerfully over the stones. There was also a small bench to the left of it, near carefully maintained rows of flowers, chrysanthemums and daffodils and so many other different splashes of color. Phil stood there a moment, taking it all in. 

 

“Quiet enough for you here?” Dan’s voice was soft, just as soft as his touch, ghosting across Phil’s upper arm. 

 

Phil just nodded, smiling as he allowed himself to be guided to the bench, sitting turned into the middle, staring deep into Dan’s eyes. They really were a beautiful shade, a deep rich brown that Phil absolutely adored. They were filled with emotion, animated with small flecks of light passing through them fleetingly, if you caught them at just the right angle. Honestly, his eyes were breathtaking. “Thank you,” he breathed out, sliding a little closer, until his leg was pressed up against Dan’s. 

 

They sat like that for a moment, the water gurgling behind them, in near complete silence. Phil could feel himself begin to relax, just listening to the water and Dan’s breathing, and watching how the light caught on his profile. Then, Dan started talking. 

 

“I was seventeen when it first started.” 

 

Phil jumped a little at those words, turning to look at Dan. His eyes held so much sorrow, and Phil felt his heart call out for this beautiful sad boy sat next to him. 

 

“I had just gotten into a fight with my older brother, and we weren’t talking. I was used to him telling me everything that was going on, but he wouldn’t tell me anything at all. He denied it, but I knew he came back each night smelling of cigarette smoke and alcohol. I looked up to him, you see, more than anyone else I can think of. He was nineteen at the time, but he still lived back in the house with me and Adrian. He didn’t go to college.” Dan ended that sentence abruptly, his jaw tightening. “So I knew there was no chance he was at night classes or anything like that. And that lead to me fighting with him over it, again and again. The only thing he would tell me was that I would be better off dropping the topic.”

 

Phil nodded slightly, tentatively, his hand reaching out to trace patterns onto the palm of Dan’s hand.  _ I’d heard Dan speak of Adrian only once before _ , he thought,  _ and with a kind of reserved bittersweetness.  _

 

“He absolutely refused to tell me where he was leaving to every night, but I was eighteen, so…” Dan ducked his head down for a second, the light cascading through his hair. “One night, I was stupid enough to follow him. It was a gang,” Dan stopped talking for a moment, either to let that fact sink in with Phil or to steel himself for what came next. Phl couldn’t have guessed which one it was if you paid him. “He was part of a gang. My older brother, his name was Caleb, but on the streets, he went by Cheshire Cat. They all had code names,” Dan explained, rattling a few off. “Red Queen, Scar, Pluto, Stitch, G-gaston,” His voice broke a little bit on the last one. 

 

Phil’s grip on his hand tightened just a little bit. 

 

Dan moved on, opting for a weak smile in Phil’s direction rather than any sort of verbal confirmation of Phil’s touch. “My brother was furious when he found out I followed him, but not everyone else in the gang felt the same. I think they took me in as some kind of legacy, excited to have fresh blood with them or something stupid like that. They called me Winnie, short for Winnie the Pooh, and accepted me as one of their own without a second thought.” Dan paused. “They took a vote. It was very democratic.” Then he moved on. “Anyway, they understood how lost I felt, and I easily melded into the group same as my brother before me, despite me being underage and unable to do anything. That was the one thing they held fast on, you weren’t allowed to ‘help out’ if you were underage. Something about not corrupting us early. I was like the gang’s child, always hanging off to the side while the adults did important work. I finally felt like I had a family. In time, my brother relaxed to my presence, and I felt closer to him than ever. I were happy.” Dan paused. “We was happy. For a while.”

 

Phil wasn’t sure whether or not Dan wanted him to speak, but Dan’s grip on his hand tightened suddenly, and he knew they were getting into dangerous territory. 

 

“There were lots of us in the gang, but one of the highest ‘ranked’ members took a special kind of liking to me. I think it had something to do with how I presented myself back then. You see, Phil, I used to straighten my hair every single day, style it into the same fringe as my brother, the same fringe as most of the other gang members. I was a lot shorter then, probably a good four or five inches shorter than you are now, and I constantly wore skinny jeans and crop tops. Apparently, that whole aesthetic really draws attention from some people.” 

 

Another pause. Phil felt afraid to breathe.

 

“His name was Johnny, but he went by Gaston. He was apparently indoctrinated into the gang, same as me, many years previous. By the time I met him though, he was nineteen, same as my brother. He was tall, with thick black hair that he could style however he felt, but he most often had it pushed back into a quiff, almost like you do now. He towered over me, but he never made me feel intimidated. He spoke to me about topics that the rest of the gang felt I was too young for, and he could tell the moment I feel head over heels for him. I was a goner.” There was a small sort of half smile on Dan’s face as he said those words, though even as Phil watched, it twisted into more of a grimace.

 

Phil realized Dan’s grip on his hand was becoming near unbearable. 

 

“Then I turned eighteen. It was like a switch had flipped. He was suddenly all over me, flirting at every possible moment and smirking as I stuttered out incoherent responses. It took him a solid week before he finally did something though, pushing me back against an alley wall and stealing my first kiss from me. I felt him tear the air from my lungs, and worse, I enjoyed it. I wanted to give him everything, anything he ever wanted. And he knew that, he really did. He asked me to be his right after the kiss, and I, foolishly and lightheaded, agreed almost instantly.” 

 

Phil made a small noise in the back of his throat. 

 

“From then on, it was expected that I go straight to him during meetings, sit either at his side or on his lap. I had to check in if I wanted to talk to any new people, and he even started asking what I was wearing to school and such.” Dan frowned, clearly distraught at his past self’s actions. “I let him decide for me most days, he liked that. I dated him through high school and into college. He was the one who convinced me to drop out, actually. I did it without a second thought. I thought I was in love.” 

 

Phil nodded slightly, making a more sympathetic sound. He remembered the day that he completed college, he felt like he owned the world.  _ If only Dan could have felt that too.  _

 

“It wasn’t until I was twenty one that I did anything worse than sitting on the side and watching someone get their ass kicked,” Dan explained. “He liked it when I watched him beat up other people, but-” Dan shuddered a little bit. “We had all but split from the gang at that point. He liked burning things, Johnny did. I was isolated from everyone except him and his crazy ideals. My brother contacted me, tried to tell me how terrible  _ he _ was for me, but nothing got past Johnny, who had become possessive and controlling by this point. And of course I didn’t listen, I was stupid and foolish. His solution,” Dan gulped. “His solution was to burn my brother’s apartment complex to the ground.”

 

Phil’s other hand shot up to cover his mouth, his eyes filling with tears. 

 

“And he had me do it too,” Dan had gone deathly quiet, near impossible to hear over the fountain in the background. “I mean, he set everything up, everything but the initial lighting. I told him I didn’t want to, that I couldn’t. He told me my brother wasn’t even home, lied to me, telling me it would be fine. Just a little payback. I said I wouldn’t do it, that my brother had finally gotten out of the life, and he was starting anew. He told me that I didn’t really love him, and... forced me to throw the match. Threatened the rest of my family, threatened Adrian. Said they would all die if I didn’t help him. My hands were shaking so bad that I didn’t think I could even light it, but I did.” Dan closed his eyes. “And it was horrible.” 

 

Phil could begin to feel tears drip down his cheeks. 

 

“You know where the story picks up from there. I got this tattoo, at his request.” Dan motioned to his arm. “We were burning everything in sight and I was choking on smoke by day and my words to him at night. He didn’t let me stick around to even know that I had thrown the match to kill my brother, I didn’t find out until a month later, when he let it slip drunk.” Dan’s expression was dark. “The next fire he told me to start, I shoved him into. He never even saw it coming.” 

 

Phil looked at him, horrified. “Oh, Dan…” He whispered.

 

“I didn’t know what to do from there. I was lost, alone, with no connections at all and a lifetime’s worth of guilt on my shoulders. So I sat there, in front of the fire, and I cried.”

 

Phil could feel his own cheeks traced with tears as he sat there, turning to face Dan more, trying to tell him with eyes alone that he would be okay.

 

“But I can tell things wouldn’t be the same with you,” Dan breathed out then, brushing the tears from Phil’s eyes gently. “You’re the opposite of everything he ever was, and all I’ve known from day one was that I knew I couldn’t let you stumble down the same path that I have. I knew because I fell for you faster than I ever did with him, for the pretty boy stuck here with people like me, and I know because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I barely even know you and all I want to do is be there for you every day, no matter what, no strings attached. No manipulation, no power dynamics, nothing. Just you and me, together.” Dan whispered. 

 

Phil felt the air leave his lungs in a rush. Dan’s eyes were welling up with tears, even as he spoke.

 

“But I’m scared. I’m so, so scared.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I'm sorry that this one was a little shorter than usual, but it was an important chapter for down the road. Hope you enjoyed! :)


	5. You're Gonna Be The Death of Me

Phil sat awake in bed late that night, much later than he would like to admit, tossing and turning as he replayed Dan’s words over and over again in his head.  _ I can tell things wouldn’t be the same with you... I’ve fallen faster for you than I ever did with him… I’m scared.  _

 

_ I’m so, so scared.  _

 

Phil could feel his eyelids begin to droop even as he lay there, listening to Tyler’s happy little snores. He’d talk to Dan in the morning, it’s not like he could leave, right? 

 

Phil let sleep claim him at last. 

 

The next morning, Phil awoke to Tyler humming  _ Bohemian Rhapsody  _ under his breath and watering the flowers on Phil’s bedside table. Tyler was just a little bit off key, though his rhythm was surprisingly on point. Phil blinked once, sleepily, rolling over and glancing at his energetic roommate. 

 

“Good morning, Sunshine!” Tyler smiled at him goofily. “Have a long night with your boyfriend?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “You weren’t back when I got to the room.”

 

“Tyler!” Phil’s face flushed a deep crimson, which just caused Tyler to laugh and wiggle his eyebrows even more. 

 

“I’m just saying…” Tyler’s grin got impossibly wider. “If you two were to hypothetically get up to anything more… romantic… you would tell me all the gritty details, right?” 

 

“I cannot believe you!” Phil stuttered out, much to his roommate’s enjoyment. 

 

“Come on, Philly,” Tyler nearly drawled, “You wouldn’t even tell me, your bestest roommate?” He almost looked affronted. “You’d tell me if you kissed a guy, right?” 

 

“I’m going to breakfast,” Phil announced loudly, trying his best to ignore Tyler as he slid off of his bed and made to walk out the door. He paused. “And you’re my  _ only  _ roommate.” 

 

“Yeah, all right. Run along, lovebug.” Tyler snickered once more, and then he was in the hallway, and the door closed behind him. Sighing a little, he made for the cafeteria, pushing through one of the doors and doing his best to avoid the gazes of his fellow inmates. He pushed down the fear that was steadily climbing up into his throat,  _ It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s all okay, no one would start anything here.  _ He kept his head down until he spotted Dan again, in the corner, his group and one person Phil couldn’t identify sitting with him. 

 

Quickly, Phil picked out some food, whatever he saw first, and began to make his way into Dan’s field of vision. However, as soon as he made eye contact with Dan, he saw a million emotions flow through his eyes. First, there was joy as Dan began to beckon him over, followed closely by spikes of fear, vulnerability, and something that Phil could only define in his head as regret. Finally, Dan’s face evened out, becoming passive, with a small half smirk on it.  _ No, that isn’t Dan anymore,  _ Phil corrected himself as he made his way over to the table.  _ This is Daniel Howell, scariest guy in the complex, brooding and seclusive, tough as nails.  _ He had to suppress a sigh.

 

“Hey guys,” Phil did a little waving motion as he approached the table tentatively. 

 

“Phillip, welcome back.” That smirk was back on Peej’s face as he acknowledged Phil’s presence. He sat to Dan’s right, his posture impeccable. 

 

“Um… you don’t have to call me Phillip,” Phil said awkwardly, doing his best to give a friendly smile to Peej, though from what he could tell, it came out as more of a grimace. “I mean, just Phil is okay by me. Please.” 

 

“Sounds good.” Peej nodded at him, the look on his face strangely invested, like he really cared about what Phil wanted to be called.

 

Connor and Troye, sitting across from Dan, who were whispering to each other when Phil walked up, separated and gave respective smiles and waves, looking leaps and bounds more friendly than the last time Phil had seen them. They were just as close as the last time Phil had seen them though. He supposed this must be a normal thing.

 

Dan looked at him then, smiling good naturedly. “Hi Phil.” His voice carried the weight of everything they had spoken of last night, and while it was clear they needed to talk about it, now was not the time. Instead, the persona was back, and Phil could only have seem the adoration in Dan’s eyes if he looked closely. 

 

Chris was elsewhere, as his seat was empty.  _ Probably just grabbing food. _

 

Now, however, was the moment that the new man, the one sitting to Dan’s left, spoke up. “So this is Phillip! You’ve been the talk of the whole prison of late.” His accent was American, though if he hadn’t spoken, he and Dan could have practically been twins. Their hairstyles were almost identical, though Not-Dan’s hair was slightly longer. They had similar eyes, both brown, though Phil personally found Dan’s to have more depth and emotion. This man also carried himself very similarly to Dan, and he gave Phil a charming smile as he spoke. “I’m Anthony.”

 

He shifted a little bit closer to Dan in his seat.  _ I could have sat there next to Dan,  _ Phil thought bitterly for only a moment. Phil just smiled politely back, sliding in next to Troye, across from Dan and Anthony. “Nice to meet you, Anthony.” 

 

Anthony, to his surprise, grinned even wider at this. “It’s lovely to meet you as well. You have a lovely northern accent,” He complimented. 

 

Phil let out a small noise of mixed surprise and confusion. “Thank you,” He said, eyes flitting briefly to Dan, who had set down his tray on the table a little too harshly. 

 

“It suits you, you’re all fine features and smooth edges,” Anthony continued, and was it just Phil’s imagination or had his voice gone deeper? “Like a statue, carved from marble. I’m disappointed it took us so long to meet, if only I had been here on your first day, I could have shown you around.”

 

Phil let out an awkward little laugh at that. “Well, we’ve met now,” He said hesitantly. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.” He moved to push his glasses up, uncomfortable, then remembered they had been crushed, days ago.  _ At least you thought to bring contacts. _

 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got beautiful eyes, Phillip?” Anthony continued.  _ Well that’s a non sequitur if I’ve ever seen one. _

 

Dan stood up suddenly, pushing his plate away from himself as he did. “I’m finished with my breakfast,” he announced. “I could go for seconds. Anyone want to come with me? Phil? Great, let’s go.” 

 

“I’ll tag along as well,” Anthony offered, with another small smile aimed at Phil, but Dan just shook his head. 

 

“It’s okay, Anthony, you don’t have to,” He gritted out. “You still have toast on your plate. I wouldn’t want to  _ inconvenience  _ you.” He offered a small smile at the end of that sentence, practically twitching as he walked around to Phil’s side of the table, waiting only momentarily for Phil to pull his long legs free from underneath it before he began marching to the buffet table. 

 

“Dan, slow down!” Phil was power walking just to keep up, stumbling over himself in an attempt to stay at Dan’s side. 

 

Dan was muttering something under his breath, but at the sound of Phil’s voice, he turned to face him, stopping his muttering as something like guilt clouded over his pretty brown eyes. He slowed slightly, allowing Phil to catch up. They finally reached the table, and stood there, Dan glaring from one choice to the next as if they had insulted his mother.   
  
“Hey, Dan, I’m sorry.” Phil said softly, moving to touch Dan’s shoulder, but Dan shied away from the action, an unreadable look on his face.  _ Right, prison persona.  _ Phil tried not to let the hurt show on his face. 

 

“I’m fine,” Dan snapped, clearly not fine. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. Nothing is wrong, because everything is fine.”

 

_ I never said anything was wrong.  _ Even as Phil opened his mouth to respond, there was a piercing cry from across the cafeteria. They both turned around just in time to see Felix deck someone across the face. The whole cafeteria broke out in yelling then, all at once, inmates screaming at one another and throwing punches back and forth. 

 

Phil watched in horror as the room descended into madness. 

 

A cacophony of noise surrounded the two of them, as Dan suddenly grabbed Phil’s wrist using it to drag him behind him and out of the way as some inmate with a long beard and several dice tattooed onto his arm lunged past them, only to tackle another inmate trying to grab all of the bagels from the buffet table. 

 

Phil nearly shrieked as another bumped into him, shoving him roughly from behind, and he suddenly found his face planted in Dan’s back muscles. 

 

Dan barely felt it, as he was engaged in a small scuffle with the inmate in front of him, brow furrowed in concentration. Phil tried to make himself as small as possible. 

 

The guards were doing their best to calm everyone down, though that didn’t appear to be happening any time soon. Many of them were engaging in physical violence with prisoners on the outskirts of the cafeteria, or shouting into walkie talkies furiously. The noise seemed to press in on him from all sides, and Phil felt a small whimper leave his throat as he crouched even closer to Dan. 

 

Then Peej was there, shoving his way past nearby prisoners and panting slightly, another person that Phil knew and recognized. Dan was yelling something at him then, but Phil couldn’t tell because it was just so loud and everything was going fuzzy. Peej nodded at whatever Dan said, and then moved to grab at Phil’s upper arm, grounding him slightly. Peej tugged him away from Dan, pulling him to one of the edges of the cafeteria, to the doors. Phil took one last look back inside before they left, just enough of a glance to see Dan’s head snap back from the force of a punch thrown at him. He was grinning as he retaliated, a left hook that sent his attacker spinning back into the fray. Clearly, there was a reason he had earned his title at this complex.

 

And then they were outside, both of them breathing a little too heavy. Phil could still hear the fight, though it wasn’t as overpowering as it had been a couple of moments ago. He could only guess that Dan had told Peej to get him out of there.  _ Dan.  _ Phil let himself slide down the wall a little bit as alarm bells went off in his head. Was he okay? Was he going to get hurt?

 

Peej craned his neck to look back inside, though no nervousness clouded his features. A moment later, he joined Phil, sliding down the wall as well.

 

“Dan?” Phil managed to wheeze out, feeling his heartbeat start to return to normal. 

 

“He should be okay.” Peej sounded surprisingly normal, though his eyes were closed, almost as if he were meditating. “He needs an outlet right now anyway.” 

 

Phil didn’t even bother trying to decipher what Peej meant by that. “They don’t… no one dies, do they? During these things?” He asked cautiously. 

 

Peej just chuckled dryly. “The worst we’ve ever seen was a couple of broken bones.”

 

“He could break a bone?” Phil felt his voice rise slightly in panic. 

 

Peej had the audacity to smirk. “Phil, he’ll be fine, trust me. We usually meet in the library after things like this, more to regroup and make sure everyone’s okay than anything else. Dan told me he’d meet us there. When you’re good to go, we can start heading over.” 

 

Phil’s heart dropped, even as he stood up. “I’m ready now,” He said to Peej, remembering how Dan’s head snapped back. “He’ll meet us there as soon as possible?” He clarified. 

 

Peej got up as well, beginning to walk down the hall. Phil followed him closely. “Yes, Phil, your  _ boyfriend  _ will meet us there as quickly as possible.” 

 

“He’s not- I mean, we’re not- no!” Phil spluttered out, face burning a deep red and shaking his head. 

 

“Yeah right.” There was a short silence. “He hasn’t shut up about you since you got here, you know that, right?” 

 

Phil nearly choked. “What did he say?” He asked softly, barely daring to look at Peej. 

 

“What, are you in middle school?” Peej snickered. “Ask him yourself. As his best friend, I have a sworn duty not to tell anything that could possibly indicate any possibility of attraction to any individual.”

 

Phil felt his face burn even more as he fell silent. 

 

“However… as his best friend, I also have a sworn duty to really hint at but not say anything outright about said attraction, as well as secure information that could possibly be of use to him, most notably about any feelings that a person might have for him.” Peej was struggling to contain laughter by that point. The situation was stupidly simple to him. “Listen, Daniel’s a little rat who absolutely despises to talk about or act on his feelings outright, just keep that in mind.” Peej gave Phil a moment to process that. “Oh look, we’re here,” he said dryly, opening the door. 

 

Phil stepped into the library with shaky legs, only to see Chris already inside, sitting at a table and wringing his hands. He nodded briefly to Phil before standing and walking to meet Peej. 

 

“You the first here?” Peej glanced around as he asked, almost as if to double check. 

 

“Yeah.” Chris looked Peej up and down. “Looks like you didn’t get into much of anything this time. Not a scratch on you.” 

 

“Had to deal with this one,” Peej jerked his thumb back at Phil as he spoke, making Phil feel only minorly incompetent.  He angled his gaze to the ground.

 

It was just then that Troye and Connor burst through the door, giggling to each other. Troye’s arm was slung around Connor’s shoulder, and while he was clearly limping slightly, both of their eyes were blown wide with adrenaline. 

 

“Hey guys, come sit over here.” Peej motioned to the table Chris had gotten up from, and stepped to the side as they moved past him as a unit, Connor helping Troye ease into the nearest chair. Troye winced slightly, smiling at Connor gratefully, who returned it and sat on the table next to him. 

 

Phil only had to wait a moment more before the door was opening again, and this time it was Dan who walked slowly into the room, a bit of blood dripping from his nose. 

 

They made eye contact, and Dan’s eyes filled with adoration. “Dan,” Phil whispered, and then he was practically throwing himself at Dan, hugging him round the waist for no other reason than he was scared for him and relieved that he was okay. Dan was okay, and he was here, and Phil could barely breathe because now Dan was hugging him back and Phil had never felt safer. Dan smelled like warmth and it was amazing. 

 

When they finally pulled apart, Phil began looking over his face, worry clouding his features slightly as he took in the nosebleed, as well as Dan’s split lip, which he hadn’t noticed at first. “You’re hurt,” he said softly. Gently, carefully, he moved his slender fingers up to ghost across the split in Dan’s upper lip, feeling Dan’s sharp intake of breath as he did. 

 

“Well if I knew you would caress my face if I was hurt, I would have bloodied myself up,” came a loud voice from behind them, and Dan and Phil jumped apart to see Anthony leaning in the doorway. A large smirk covered his face, and he sauntered up to them. “Can you do it anyway, Darling?” 

 

Phil began spluttering, moving to shake his head no as Dan’s grip on his other arm tightened significantly, but Anthony was already patting him on the head and laughing. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he commented, moving past them to sit down at the table. 

 

Dan positively bristled, pulling Phil a little closer to him as Anthony moved past. Peej’s words echoed back to Phil.  _ Daniel’s a little rat who absolutely despises to talk about or act on his feelings outright, just keep that in mind…  _ He frowned slightly.  _ He won’t do anything more than this to dissuade Anthony.  _

 

Phil squeezed Dan’s hand briefly before pulling back from him, moving past him to step into the aisles of books. “I’ll come back soon, just give me a moment,” he whispered as he passed. He just needed a bit of time to himself, to think. His brain was swimming with everything that had happened of late, and Dan acting like that was not helping. 

 

At first, he was terrified of Dan, all he knew was that he was scary. Then, he really met who Dan was inside, the boy he locked away back in 2012, the boy with real emotions, with a tragic backstory that he was forced to deal with the consequences of his actions every single day. He met a kind, compassionate Dan, who read poetry to him when he asked and showed him the room he would go to to calm down. A possessive Dan that angered quickly as others tried to force their way into the picture. A Dan that arguably held some kind of feelings for him, despite harboring a fear to act on them. A Dan that he wished desperately he had met in any other situation. 

 

Phil let his head thunk against the bookshelf behind him. “Daniel Howell, you’re going to be the death of me…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have an important question for you guys regarding shipping, Troye and Connor in particular. Do you guys feel any specific way about them or any other characters having more than friendships between them? Or, if you're just here for the Phan, that's cool too. You don't have to have an opinion, though if you feel strongly one way or another, please drop by the comments and let me know. Hope you're enjoying the story!


	6. Get Your Head in the Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crawling out from under a rock* Chapter? Writing?? F-fanfiction???

The next morning, Phil woke up before even Tyler, bright and early, eyes snapping open. Today was one day he definitely couldn’t sleep away. Today was the day his mother had scheduled a visit. The deplorable guards who walked him into the complex had given him an official blue form and everything. He made sure to grab it on his way out the door. 

 

As Phil walked briskly down the hallway, he tried his best to keep the spring out of his step, remembering the directions Dan had given him, all with a wistful smile adorning his face that didn’t quite reach his pretty brown eyes. 

 

As soon as he reached the set of deep brown double doors, worn with age and use, he pushed through them, passing his slip to the man inside. “Booth six,” the old man croaked out, barely giving Phil a second glance. His voice cracked slightly with the last syllable. 

 

Phil let the door be pulled open for him and he stepped into the box-like room. It was small, with barely enough room for a folding chair in it. The other wall was mostly glass, and the moment Phil made eye contact with the woman behind it, he could feel his eyes fill with tears, unexpected but welcomed. “Mom,” He whispered, scrambling to sit down and talk with her. 

 

“Ten minutes!” Someone shouted from outside. Phil nodded, though he doubted whoever it was who yelled to him could see his nonverbal responses. He sat down.

 

His mother was the first to speak, the sentence flowing from her mouth almost as if she didn’t truly believe what sat before her. “Oh, Phillip, love, you’re here,” Her eyes mirrored his, brimming with tears. They sat there a moment longer, neither one of them wanting to be the one to break the moment they had created. If Phil closed his eyes for even a moment, he could imagine his mother saying those words as she stood before him as he stepped out of his car, returning from college. He could see happier situations, different worlds. The moment he reopened his eyes, those worlds shattered.

 

“Hi, mum.” Phil’s voice broke through the air. It sounded heavy with regret, even to his own optimistic ears. “T-thanks for coming.” The corner of his mouth twitched, almost as if he wanted to smile, but he couldn’t quite figure out how to. 

 

“How have you been holding up then?” His mother straightened in her chair, a determined look setting across her face. She seemed intent on pretending situations were different, same as him. 

 

“Okay, I guess,” Phil shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, then mentally chastised himself.  _ This is your only time with her for a month, Lester. Use it!  _ “My roommate’s name is Tyler.” Phil considered his next words very carefully. “He’s an… interesting guy. Very welcoming, I suppose. He kinda helped me out as soon as I got here, showed me how everything works. He’s actually only in here for steal-”

 

His mother cut him off, pain flashing across her face for only a moment at the brief reminder of prison life. “That’s wonderful. Is there anyone else you’ve… met?” The conversation felt stilted. 

 

“Well, there’s Dan.” Phil’s mind was flooded with images, from the first time he met Dan, thinking he was going to maim him, to some of his most recent of the brown haired boy, jealousy clouded eyes when he thought Phil wasn’t looking and soft smiles he reserved specifically for when he was looking. “He’s nice.” 

 

“Just nice?” His mother allowed herself a small smile at that. “Go on, Phil, tell me more about this ‘nice’ boy.” 

 

Phil let the memories pass through his mind freely, contemplating what exactly to tell his mother about Dan. “He shouldn’t be here,” he started. “He puts on a tough outer shell, but all it really takes is a few moments of conversation and you realize that man just isn’t who he wants to be. He thinks he has to do everything alone too, or at least he used to. He’s slow to trust in that way. He’s too good for this world, Mum, but he just thinks the opposite. People manipulated him and spat on his life and he still manages to blame himself for it somehow.” 

 

Phil paused for only a moment. “But he’s so much different than that. Dan Howell is the man who read me cheesy poetry as I drifted off to sleep my first week here. He’s the man who took the care to walk me back to my bunk my first night out of the infirmary. Dan Howell is the man that gets flustered once in a blue moon, and it’s a real sight to see. He’s the man who really is terrifying, but only when he needs to be, only when someone he cares for is in pain. The boy afraid to trust. But most importantly, Dan Howell is the most courageous soul in this entire compound.” Phil felt his cheeks color slightly as the last words fell from his lips. “So, uh, yeah.” He finished rather lamely. “He’s nice.” 

 

When he looked up, his mother was beaming. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were tearing up once more as well. “Phillip,” she started, still smiling widely, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak about someone so fondly.” Her smile turned knowing. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you like this boy.”

 

Phil could feel his blush slowly travel down his cheeks and neck. “Mum! It isn’t like that.” 

 

His mother just kept smiling. 

 

Phil could feel himself filling with warmth, despite his embarrassment. “So how’s everything at home?”

 

\-----

 

When Phil closed the door and turned around, he was met with Dan’s anxious face.    
  
“Woah.” Phil practically jumped back in surprise. 

 

Dan’s face broke out into a huge grin at that, looking almost relieved. “Oh, good, it’s you this time.” 

 

Phil felt his head cock slightly to the left as he inquired softly, “This time?” 

 

Dan brushed over that quickly, dismissing it with nothing more than a quick shake of his head.”So how did the chat with your mom go?” He asked, just as softly. 

 

Phil felt his face begin to break out into a huge smile, and he did his best to stifle it as he began to describe the experience, starting with how his mother appeared to be holding up, how she spoke and how despite everything, his mother did seem really, truly happy to see him. Dan listened to him the entire time with that same, sickly sweet smile, not a hint of bitterness in his face, and yet Phil felt his heart ache. 

 

“That’s great!” Dan said when he had finished, and Phil searched as hard as he could to find any kind of resentment in Dan’s face, turning up empty handed. 

 

“Yeah,” Phil said lamely, his voice barely a whisper. 

 

They had began to walk, though when that started, Phil didn’t quite know. However, here they were, matching each other stride for stride, wandering past parts of the compound that Phil didn’t even know existed, rooms and inmates he had never seen before. Phil felt Dan’s hand creep into his. 

 

He smiled, leaning a little bit into Dan as he did. They continued to wander aimlessly. Phil felt at home in a way no one had ever been able to make him feel. His stomach turned as he realized with a jolt,  _ oh my god, my mother was right.  _

 

“Phil.” Something was off in Dan’s voice, and Phil turned to look at him, but Dan wasn’t making eye contact. 

 

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly, refusing to cast his eyes to the ground, adamant to get Dan to look at him. 

 

“I need to tell you something-” Dan started, though he was interrupted by a loud shout down the hall; “Phil!”

 

“Oh!” Phil jumped for the second time in twenty minutes, whirling around and coming practically face to face with Anthony, out of breath and panting. Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, a part of him simmered with disgust and irritation at the intrusion, but he pushed that down, chastising himself for feeling that way about someone he barely knew yet.  _ It’s fine, Dan will tell you whatever he needs to later.  _   
  
“Phil, there you are!” Anthony went to hug him then, apparently not feeling the way that Phil stiffened in his arms. “I’ve been looking all over for the you,” he said as he pulled back. “How’d the talk with your mum go?” 

 

“Very well, thank you.” Phil did his best to smile politely at Anthony, his hands ghosting over his arms subconsciously as he did, taking another smaller step back. Dan cleared his throat awkwardly then, his hand having been yanked from Phil’s when Anthony went to hug him. 

 

“Dan, didn’t see you there.” Anthony’s smile remained good natured, though it didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes anymore. Phil went to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose awkwardly as Dan gritted out his response, forgetting they had been crushed once more. 

 

“It’s fine.” 

 

Anthony seemed to take that as the cue to slip himself between them, smiling cheerily at Phil and beginning to talk immediately. “I hope you two don’t mind me butting in here. I was hoping to find you guys to see if maybe you all wanted to play a game or two down at the courts, Connor, Troye, and Peej are already there, Tyler’s playing too, I think.” 

 

Dan looked over Anthony’s head to Phil, his eyes trying to convey something Phil couldn’t quite understand yet, though he imagined it had something to do with the thing Dan needed to tell him before Anthony interrupted them. 

 

“U-um, I’m not much of a basketball player,” Phil offered up, giving Anthony a weak smile as he did, and running his fingers through his quiff. 

 

“That’s okay sweetie, you can just cheer me on from the side,” Anthony winked at him, causing Phil to flush, though he wasn’t quite sure why. He was pretty sure he could hear Dan’s teeth gritting against each other from the other side of Anthony. “We’re almost there anyway.” 

 

Indeed they were. They turned one more corner and reached a large set of doors, not unlike the ones for the visiting rooms. Pulling open the door for Phil, Anthony took the time to give him one last blinding smile. 

 

Dan pushed past him and into the room. Phil barely had time to glance at the scowl adorning his face. His heart sunk. 

 

Troye was already on the court, playing one v one against Tyler as Peej coached him from the side.  Phil moved off to the side as both Anthony and Dan walked over to the group on the court, and found Connor sitting, watching the scrimmage.

 

He looked up as Phil approached, giving him a smile. 

 

“You don’t play either?” Phil offered, looking and feeling incredibly awkward. He glanced around the room, finding it empty apart from them. 

 

“I’m more of a bowling person, to be honest.” Connor cracked a grin. “Unfortunately, that isn’t one of the many luxuries offered here in prison. I’m not in here for crazy things like all these people, I don’t have to maintain any kind of ‘prison image,’ and I just don’t enjoy the sport. Troye tried to teach me a while back, and I could never really pick up on it.” 

 

“Okay.” Phil sat next to Connor, mirroring his grin. Then he leaned in a little. “Do they really only play to maintain their prison image?” 

 

“Oh, Anthony, and Peej? For sure.” Connor laughed a little. “Troye actually enjoys it. I think it was something he and his siblings did before, ya know.” Connor made a wide gesture to the walls around them, to which Phil nodded his understanding. “Daniel however, he’s an enigma.” Connor tapped his chin, in an almost comical over exaggeration of thinking. “I suppose he does enjoy it as well. They all enjoy the competition part of it to an extent as well.” 

 

Then, Connor leaned in even closer to Phil, almost as though he was telling a shameful secret. “You do know Daniel likes you, right?” 

 

Phil spluttered a little and opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted. “Connor!” Connor turned to see who had called for him, looking up to see Peej across the room, holding the ball. “We only have five. Can you play a few games?” 

 

He rolled his eyes. “You know I don’t like to play,” he hollered back. “Is there really no one else you can find?” 

 

Peej had just started to gesture at the empty stadium around them, when the door creaked open. 

 

“I’ll play.”

 

They all stared at the short man who had walked through the door in shock. 

 

“What?” Mark Fischbach stared right back at them. “You’re looking at me like I’ve grown a second head.”

 

It was deadly silent for a moment, and then Dan spoke up. “Why are you here?” His tone was slightly guarded, his expression neutral. 

 

“Same reason as you, I wanna play. Last I checked, these courts are free for any inmate’s use, or do you have special privileges I don’t know about?”

 

“No need to get cheeky, we’re just trying to talk this out,” Peej countered. His arms were crossed and he had moved to stand at Dan’s side. 

 

“Nothing to talk about, as far as I can see. I want to play, you want two even teams.” Mark shrugged, not standing down. 

 

There was another moment of silence, just as deadly and tense as the first. 

 

“Okay then.” 

 

Connor and Phil both let out sighs of relief. Peej relaxed slightly, and Anthony’s face twisted into an unreadable expression. 

 

Mark blinked in surprise. “Okay then.” He nodded back at Dan. “What are the teams?” 

 

“Peej, Troye, and Anthony,” Dan pointed them out, “You, me, and Tyler.”

 

“Mixing teams up today, Howell?” Anthony practically snarled at him. 

 

“Hey now,” was Dan’s only response, his tone suddenly sharper. A warning. 

 

They positioned themselves, Troye starting with the ball, Tyler across from him. Conner called out,  _ start  _ and they were suddenly all in motion. 

 

Phil gasped the first time he saw Anthony shove Dan out of the way, ramming his shoulder into Dan’s side and grabbing the ball. 

 

“Hey now!” Connor barked out. Then he turned to Phil. “Your boyfriend will be okay. I’m here to make sure they don’t get too rough.” 

 

Phil flushed and looked down, Connor smirking and looking back to the game. 

 

The second time Anthony shoved Dan, Dan shoved back, ramming his full weight right back into Anthony and sending the shorter man staggering. He grabbed the ball and began dribbling back down the court in long strides. 

 

“Watch it, Daniel, Anthony!” Connor called out. 

 

“Are most games like this?” Phil inquired nervously. 

 

“Not usually,” Connor said quietly, brow furrowed in an emotion right between anger and irritation. “But if they don’t stop this soon I may have to call it.” 

 

“It?” Phil inquired once more, helplessly, watching as Anthony tried to throw himself at Dan once more. 

 

“The game. Oh, look, Troye’s coming over.” Connor said dryly.

 

He was correct. Mark, Peej, and Tyler were standing awkwardly on the side of the field as Anthony and Dan struggled for control of the ball, just on the cusp of a real fight.  _ How long do we have until fists start swinging?  _

 

Troye was talking now, muttering to Connor, voice so low Phil was struggling to hear. He could only make out certain parts of it. “-isn’t a game anymore, Connor- gotten into them? I mean- yeah, Anthony’s a tad unreliable, but Dan is usually so level headed.” 

 

Connor was muttering back, just as quietly. Finally, they seperated, and Connor yelled out, “Hey!” 

 

Both Dan and Anthony stopped immediately, Dan dropping the ball and looking sheepish, Anthony holding his chin high. 

 

“Okay okay,” Connor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s walk it off you two. Anthony, how about you grab some water for us. Dan, can you please find a new ball. We’ll reconvene in ten.” 

 

When Dan gestured at the one he had just dropped on the ground, looking a bit like a petulant child, Connor sighed once more, louder. “Troye says this one is deflated. Just find a new one!” 

 

Dan nodded, almost meekly. He glanced at Phil, and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Connor interrupted him. “Nope. No Phil. Go.” Then his tone turned kinder. “Cool off, Dan.” 

 

Dan just nodded a little bit, and while he said nothing, his eyes conveyed just how grateful he was. He gave Phil one last look, a smirk quirking at the edge of his lips, and walked away. 

 

“Great. Phil, darling, you want to help me carry water then?” Anthony said, the moment Dan was out of earshot, giving another blinding smile. He seemed unaffected. 

 

“If you want someone to help you carry water, you can take Peej.” Connor rolled his eyes. 

 

“Phil is his own person, why can’t he decide?” Anthony retorted. 

 

“Because I said so, now please, just go.” 

 

And Anthony left then, muttering under his breath. 

 

“S-should I leave you all two it then?” Mark spoke up awkwardly, making his presence known for the first time since he walked through the doors. “You seem like you have some stuff to work out.” 

 

Connor sighed a third time, and Troye, beside him, began to rub his back sympathetically. “You’re much less problematic than those two at this point. You can stay if you want. We might even play another game if those two idiots cool off.”

 

“Okay then.” Mark sat down awkwardly next to Phil, on the edge of the seat, back rigid. 

 

There was a long, awkward pause as no one said anything, everyone contemplating what they had just seen. 

 

Then, so softly you could barely hear it, Mark spoke into the silence. “I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry guys, Chem hit me like a truck. I haven't actually been able to write for weeks, and it's been killing me. Hopefully, you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I swear I'll try my best to get another update out as soon as possible!


	7. Good Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Awkwardly slides this chapter into your lap* Long time no see, guys... 
> 
> I'm so sorry, I've been playing around with the wording on this chapter for FOREVER, and I finally just gave up and got it to a place I was pretty okay with it being in, and posted it. Anywho, I hope you enjoy!

Phil blinked in surprise, jerking his head to the left to look at Mark. 

 

Mark seemed unfazed by his reaction, keeping his head facing forward and continuing to talk. “I don’t want to be locked up in here, you know. I don’t think any of us do… apart from maybe Felix. He just thrives in this environment, and if you aren’t with him, you’re against him. Jack, well… Jack chose to be with him. It was just the obvious choice. And so did I, at first. Because Felix offered us so much, he said we’d all keep one another safe, like a family. And of course we agreed, we would have been stupid not to. He seemed so different then, and Marzia was so sweet… I couldn’t even believe they were supposed to be here at first.” 

 

Mark sighed then, letting his head drop for only a moment. Phil nodded a little bit, just to show he was listening.  _ Where is this going?  _

 

“Felix was the toughest one in here, or at least, he thought he was. I don’t think it helped that most serial killers tended to keep to themselves. Felix had killed before, of course, but only if a robbery went south. He assured us he regretted every single time. Of course, he broadcasted the opposite sentiment to the rest of the compound. But it was fine, people left us alone, for a while. And then, a little boy was thrown in here with us, a mean little boy with a brown fringe and nothing but skin on his bones. An empty shell, who’d somehow managed to make it onto the most wanted list in less time than Felix. And he was intimidated, of course. He told us all. He was more open with us back then.” 

 

Conner and Troye had even stopped their whispering to listen to Mark, captivated by the strange mixture of bittersweet sorrow and anger in his voice. 

 

“This little boy had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. He was ruthless, the first inmate that messed with him, thinking he was an easy target, was found all but dead the next morning in the middle of the cafeteria. Felix was horrified, this inmate was somehow even more openly ruthless than him, and was going to take his crown. How  _ dare _ he.” Mark’s voice had turned mocking, and he spit out the words as if they pained him just to say out loud. “That was when he really started to go off the deep end.”

 

_ I can see where this is going… _

 

“He became obsessed with Daniel, or rather, ways to dethrone the new ‘king of the compound’ that Daniel had so quickly become. Tyler and Ethan were a part of the group by then too, and they would talk to Jack and I about how exciting this was, almost like a real war inside these walls. They all wanted a fight, and I just wanted to go home. But Jack was listening to them, and before long, he was thinking the same way. On board with anything, just as reckless as Felix and the rest of the group.” Mark paused for a moment. “Now don’t get me wrong, I still love him, with all of my heart. But he’s almost broken now, and I don’t know how to save him…”  Mark’s voice broke a little. 

 

Phil’s eyes widened at that, making awkward eye contact with Connor and Troye, equally shocked. Troye shrugged. 

 

Mark seemed to sense their silent questioning. “There are more kinds of love than just romantic. I don’t know what Jack is to me anymore, he started as a friend, and turned into whatever he is now.” Mark let out a small chuckle. “My whole world. I couldn’t bear to be without him. He just gets me. I don’t even care what kind of relationship we’re in, as long as we’re together. And so I stayed, for him and for him alone. Wouldn’t you?” He looked to Phil, then his eyes focused on Connor and Troye. Their grips had tightened on one another, and while Connor looked almost thoughtful, Troye’s eyes were wide. They both nodded as one. 

 

“So yeah,” Mark finally said. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry that I fought with you, that I went along with all of Felix’s stupid plans, that I couldn’t bear to leave all of that behind. I’m particularly sorry for the pain I’ve caused all of you, and I’m sorry for being such a coward,” Mark finished, looking as though a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. 

 

To Phil’s surprise, Troye smiled. “It’s okay,” he whispered out into the near still air of the court. “I’m sorry for cursing you out and I’m sorry for attacking you just because you fell in line with the rest of Felix’s group. I’m sorry for the people in your life, and I hope that one of these days, you can tell them you feel sorry for them too.” 

 

_ What is going on?  _ Phil’s eyes widened even further as Mark noticeably sniffed, wiping away the beginnings of tears. “That means a lot to me, thank you.” He said, a soft smile gracing his features.  _ Happy looks good on him, he should wear it more often.  _

 

Connor nodded as well. “Samesies,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in an attempt to mask his smirk. This caused Troye, Mark, and Phil alike to burst into laughter, some of it because of the absurdity of the situation they were in. Three men, sitting in a prison basketball court, crying over their feelings. What a sight. 

 

Finally, Mark stopped sniffling. “Of course, this little heart to heart doesn’t mean I can just meander over and talk to you guys whenever I want to,” he said slowly, frowning. “Felix would flip out.” 

  
Phil found himself frowning at that, almost against his will. Or maybe not. Mark seemed like a super cool dude.  _ Phillip,  _ his brain chided him,  _ you need to stop forming serious emotional connections with the most ruthless and dangerous men in the world.  _

 

This was the moment that the court door slammed open again, Peej walking through rolling his eyes and holding absolutely nothing and Anthony following him, struggling to carry far more water than was necessary. He did his best to saunter over, struggling under the bulk of the water bottles. Peej fell in line next to him, still rolling his eyes. 

 

Anthony did his best attempt at a flirty wink. “Want one, babe?” He asked Phil, who (thankfully) remained unflushed. 

 

“Yeah, thanks a bunch, honey.” Mark said, without missing a beat, snagging a bottle from the top of the pile. 

 

Anthony set the rest of the bottles down next to Connor, face flushed either from anger, embarrassment, or just the fact that he had carried way too many bottled waters all the way to the court to impress a pretty boy. “Is Howell still not back?” He wondered aloud, deciding not to open the can of worms that was Mark’s sass, his face breaking into a small yet devious smile. 

 

“He doesn’t appear to be standing anywhere nearby,” Mark said dryly, sipping from his bottled water almost thoughtfully. He kept looking from Anthony, to Phil, to Peej, and appeared to be connecting the dots. 

 

It was just then that Dan walked back through the door, slowly, but purposefully. Phil felt his heart race for only a second, locking eyes with Dan and giving him a small smile. It was returned, but so briefly that he almost missed it. Under Dan’s arm was another basketball. 

 

“I’m good to play another few rounds if everyone else is,” He said to the group. 

 

“Yeah, I’m game.” Troye smiled. 

 

“Sounds like fun.” Tyler said, standing up from where he had been sitting before, meditating. Phil felt a small stab of guilt for forgetting that he was there.

 

“That’s why I’m here,” Mark nodded his agreement. 

 

“Always a pleasure,” Anthony gritted out, just a second behind the others. Dan gave him a small smile before turning to Connor. 

 

“You good to ref a couple more, Connor? Don’t know where we’d be without you.” Dan asked good naturedly. 

 

Connor just beamed at him. “Good to have you back to normal, Daniel.” 

 

And so Phil sat with Connor while they all played. If he was being completely honest, he had no freaking idea what was going on, having never had an interest in the sport before, but honestly, he was pretty sure he could just watch Dan play for hours. 

 

The way he moved, everything was so fluid, so thought out. It was all so effortless looking, Dan might as well have been floating. He was so elegant, yet so ruthless. Poised to strike, yet he carried himself as though he were dancing. Or maybe Phil was just overthinking the grace with which Dan moved. Yeah, that might have been it...

 

And then, just as he began to overheat, Dan took off his shirt, tossing it off to the side of the court before going for the ball again. And Phil immediately flushed from his cheeks to his chest. Connor snickered, catching Troye’s shirt, as he was the next to toss the unnecessary article of clothing to the side. “What’s this, Lester?” he teased him. 

 

“Shut up,” Phil whispered, doing his best to look at the floor, and nothing but the floor. 

 

“Ooh, I think he’s looking at you, Phil,” Connor singsonged then, waving cheerily to Dan and pointing at the flushed Phil next to him. Phil could tell he was mouthing something at Dan, but he wasn’t going to look up from the hard wood in front of him again. 

 

This was a mistake. 

 

“Phil, darling! Catch!” Anthony’s rich voice rang out, and Phil barely had time to blink before his vision was obscured by a large, somewhat sweaty object. Shaking his head in disbelief and all but clawing the offending T-shirt off of him, Phil looked up just in time to see Anthony send him another flirty wink. He looked down again, closing his eyes. 

  
Connor patted his shoulder, sighing a little bit. 

 

\-----

 

Phil was sitting in his and Tyler’s room, flipping through the pages of another poetry book when there was a quiet knock on his door frame. Looking up, he was greeted with Dan’s soft, vulnerable eyes. His heart skipped a beat.  _ Stop that. _

 

“Uhhh…” Phil stuttered out intelligently, running a hand through his hair self consciously. “Want to sit down?” He scootched to the edge of his bed. 

 

There was a moment where Dan just stared at him, with that same soft look from before in his eyes, then he nodded, walking to the bed and sitting next to Phil. “Hey you,” he finally whispered, not breaking eye contact. 

 

“Hey you,” Phil responded, giving Dan a small smile. God, he could drown in those eyes.

 

There was a long pause, during which several different thoughts made themselves present and heard inside of Phil’s head.  _ Kiss him. Just lean over and kiss him on the lips. No! Take his hands, they’re so soft. I bet he wouldn’t mind. Or… you could- _

 

“I saw you looking at me today, on the court,” Dan finally spoke, voice mirthful. 

 

Phil’s head shot up.  _ We aren’t really about to talk about that, are we?  _ His face colored instantly, until he noticed that Dan was matching his flush and chuckling quietly. Phil cracked a small smile.  _ I guess we are.  _ “So what if I was, Howell?” He asked.

 

“Oh, I don’t know…” Dan smirked. “One might wonder why your gaze would linger so long on me… Might even inquire.” 

 

“Hmm, interesting.” Phil said, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. “And are you inquiring?” 

 

“Would you mind terribly if I was, Phillip?” Dan asked then, his pupils blown wide. His hand reached out, just as it had on Phil’s first day, and stroked lightly down around his jaw. 

 

_ What the actual hell is going on? _

 

“I don’t think that I would,” Phil stuttered out, his tongue suddenly feeling swollen. Since when was his mouth so dry? 

 

“Well then,” Dan breathed out, face coming impossibly closer to Phil’s. “Consider this an inquiry.” 

 

Phil felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Dan was closing his eyes now, and his eyelashes were so long, how had he never noticed that before? He had these two little freckles just under his right cheek too, and his skin was so very pale. Phil could feel his eyelids closing slowly as he started to lean in...

 

\-----

 

Connor was having what one would describe as a  _ rough day.  _ First, he woke up late, and there were no bagels left in the buffet. That in itself was enough to make him a little bit grumpy. Then, he had the misfortune of running into Ethan Nestor when he went jogging, and had to put up with the blue haired boy’s general threatening and intimidation tactics for a solid fifteen minutes while he desperately tried to imagine he was literally anywhere else. It didn’t work. After that, he and Troye had met up to eat a nice quiet lunch near the library, but a fight had broken out, thanks to some idiot and his friend, and Louise wasn’t opening the doors, not even for them. 

 

Now, he sat next to Troye again, relocated to eat his lunch elsewhere a lot less peaceful and serene, absentmindedly tracing his thumb over the back of Troye’s hand and listening to Anthony. The two of them had been listening to Anthony for no fewer than forty minutes. 

 

“And his eyes, Connor, his  _ eyes, _ ” Anthony whispered to him, leaning forward a little bit and closing his eyes. “They’re such a deep, rich blue, so full of emotion… I can’t imagine why someone like him would be anywhere near people like us. He’s too pure for this complex, hell, he’s too pure for this  _ world. _ ” 

 

“Well you certainly have some strong opinions on Phil,” Troye said.

 

Anthony nodded in agreement. “He’s amazing...” He leaned a little closer to Connor and Troye then, as though the three of them were conspiring. “I know Howell likes him too, see, but I can tell Phil likes me way more. He gets the most adorable flush every time I flirt with him.” A large grin started to spread across his face. “And yeah, Howell did manage to get to him first, but that was just kinda dumb luck. If I had been there his first day, he would have latched onto me like the precious baby duckling that he is.” 

 

Troye really did roll his eyes then. “How can you be sure which of you Phil really prefers?” 

 

“I just told you,” Anthony said, almost smugly.

 

“Have you actually asked Phil his opinion on this stuff yet?” Connor followed up. 

 

“Uhh, no. But I can tell. All I need to do now is ask Phil out,” Anthony said, as though his relationship with Phil was a done deal, and he had only one minor hurdle to leap before the finish line. In reality, Connor and Troye knew he could not actually have been further from said finish line. 

 

“Are you sure that’s really the best course of action?” Connor tried, exchanging a slightly nervous look with Troye over Anthony’s head. It wasn’t the first of the conversation, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last either. 

 

“Yeah, yeah I really think that it is,” said Anthony cheerily. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever felt the same attraction that I feel to Phil with anyone else before. I really could see him being the one for me.” 

 

Connor sighed. “Look, Anthony-” 

 

“I already know what you’re going to tell me.” 

 

Connor blinked, a little bit startled. “You do? I really think you don’t...”

 

“You’re going to tell me that Howell plans to grow a pair and make a move on Phil too, aren’t you? And that I”ll be wasting my time because Phil will be too scared to say no to him. But Connor,” Anthony smiled. “You don’t need to worry about that. I really feel like Phil and I have something special. I know he’ll wait for me.” 

 

Connor had to resist the urge to simply bury his head in his hands. “Okay. Yeah. Sure, totally.” 

 

\-----

 

Peej, however, was having what one would describe as a  _ good day.  _ He had gotten to breakfast early, snagged the bare minimum to eat on the go, and headed down to the visiting center. He had then gotten to talk with Sophie for a reasonable (not quite satisfactory, but still rather pleasant) amount of time, and she had caught him up on everything that had happened since her last visit. He had told her about his concerns and feelings concerning his fellow inmates, and she had listened to him. It was quite nice.    
  
From there, he had gone to take a shower, and just sat there and used up all the warm water before a new inmate was allowed his turn. Peej didn’t consider himself a mean person by nature, and if he was being completely honest, the water thing was more an accident than anything else, but no one would question him on it, so instead of giving the poor man a sympathetic smile, like he would have done many many years ago, Peej leveled his head, making direct eye contact with the man. He had worked hard to perfect his icy stare, and yet he still doubted it would be as cold as the water that would hit that poor man’s back as he showered. 

 

He had heard there was a fight going on near the library, so Peej had steered clear of it, sensibly. He had instead gone to the lunch room, and eaten there, in the peace and quiet that only came with solitude. So yeah, Peej was having a good day. 

 

\-----

  
Phil had yet to decide what kind of day he was having, but as he sat there, Dan’s soft lips pressed against his own, he was starting to lean more towards the  _ good day  _ category.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah... That was it. :)
> 
> I would love to hear what you guys thought about the chapter! It was a bit more of a filler chapter, but I have some very big things planned that are all being set up through this. I was a little iffy about my characterization of Anthony (sorry to him about that lol) but if you have thoughts on him that's really what I was on the fence about in this chapter. I hope you enjoyed!!

**Author's Note:**

> Title is still a work in process please don't hate me 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed despite my treatment of poor Tyler Oakley... I feel like he was just a NPC in this chapter, to introduce Phil to the game. I swear there will be more actual storyline in the next chapter. Also just a disclaimer: I've never been to prison myself, so sorry if this is inaccurate/offensive in any way other than the obvious that I explained in the chapter itself to make it easier to write. 
> 
> Please I crave validation please leave a kudos if you have time <3


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